


The Power Of The White Gems

by DeputyMom62, TigereyesF



Category: Thranduil - Fandom
Genre: Angry Thranduil, Caring Thranduil, Dragon Sickness, Erotic Thranduil, F/M, Kidnapping, Orcs, Physical Abuse, Post BotFA, Swordfighting, Thorin Didn't Die In BOTFA, Thranduil Love, Thranduil Lust, Thranduil Sex, Vengeful Thorin, strong female character, stubborn everybody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-04-22 06:51:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 71,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14303208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeputyMom62/pseuds/DeputyMom62, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigereyesF/pseuds/TigereyesF
Summary: The Consultant on this work is DeputyMom62Thranduil is on a mission to reclaim the white gems which belong to him. Thorin is refusing to part with them, even when faced with the threat of being attacked by the elf army. Thranduil becomes suspicious when the woman who has stood by the dwarf's shoulder for years wants to see him, and her reason completely shocks him. Circumstances lead to the woman ending up in Mirkwood, where the chemistry changes. Things begin heating up between the two, and before long the elf King has fallen deeply in love.Thorin remains a problem, and will do whatever it takes to see the destruction of a strong and beautiful love that angers his soul. Violence, death, destruction, and an unexpected realisation for Thranduil pile rapidly into the lives of the Woodland elves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The opening chapter has taken inspiration from the scene in BOTFA where Bilbo approaches Thranduil and Bard with the Arkenstone. Chapters following this are veering towards my own imagination.

** CHAPTER ONE **

****

The elk came to a halt, lowering his head slightly. The magnificent antlers swept low, almost touching the dwarf he faced, but not quite.

“I trust you have seen reason,” a deep voice said, coming from the rider on the elk’s back.

Thorin snorted softly with a small smile of amusement. “I trust you are seeking guidance for your ignorance on matters of the dwarves,” he replied.

Thranduil said nothing. His face remained a cool mask of indifference.

“I have told you previously – I will not part with the gems. Not a single one,” Thorin said.

“They were paid for,” his adversary counteracted. “They rightfully belong to the Sindar elves. Not the dwarves.”

Thorin shrugged carelessly. “They are in our possession, therefore they remain our property,” he said. “I will not hand them over.” His gaze flicked over the elf King’s shoulder to the masses of his army spread out along the crest of the hill.

Thranduil continued to hold his gaze, his ice blue stare unnerving the dwarf. “They are mine,” he said.

“Yet they are in my mountain,” the reply came. “And there they will stay.”

The King finally turned his eyes from Thorin’s, sweeping around to those gathered back from where the two of them were placed. Dwarves loyal and devoted to their King stood collectively, watching what was going on. Silence blanketed them, as nobody dared utter a word.

Thranduil’s gaze landed on a woman.

She sat on one of the large rocks next to the walkway, silently observing. A deep blue velvet cloak was wrapped around her shoulders, her long black hair cascading down her back. Deep blue eyes watched intently, and he felt a shiver down his spine as her eyes connected with his.

“You have until dawn to make your final decision,” he said, drawing his eyes back to Thorin. “I will give you until then, bearing in mind the losses you face if you refuse to return what is mine.”

The elk turned and slowly plodded away, giving the dwarf a view of the elf King’s back.

He pursed his mouth, anger bubbling in his blood.

The gems were his, and they were going to remain his.

He turned back to his people, his gaze landing on the judgemental eyes of those gathered, particularly the female who sat on the rock. Her blue eyes held his, and he could read the reproach in the depths. Cursing to himself, he stalked past, returning to the welcoming entrance of the mountain.

Thranduil reached his Captain, and drew the elk to a halt. “We will hold position overnight,” he informed him. “It seems the stubborn dwarf will not listen to reason. If necessary, I will take by force what is mine.”

“Very good, my Lord,” the Captain replied, with a respectful bow of his head. “I will ensure everyone knows what is expected of them.”

“We attack at dawn,” Thranduil said as he rode the elk past the elf. “Unless that stubborn oaf sees reason before then.”

*****

Katalia shook her head in exasperation. “Thorin, listen to me,” she said. “You are going to have a full-scale war on your doorstep! Can you live with the blood that will be on your hands?”

The dwarf Lord laughed humourlessly. “The blood shall not be on my hands,” he replied. “It will be on the elf King’s, and his alone.”

“But you can stop this,” she said. “Give him what is rightfully his, and he will leave.”

“I will not give away what is mine,” he snarled.

“But what he wants is not yours,” she pointed out. “They belong to him, and his people.”

“And you would know all about that,” he hissed, swooping in close to her, anger blazing in his eyes. “Sometimes I wonder where your loyalty lies, Katalia.  For it seems like it does not lie where it should.”

She closed her eyes, turning her head to the side away from him. “You will not listen to reason,” she sighed. “And it is not going to end well.”

“It will end with him realising that I will not part with what is rightfully mine!” he shouted.

“But it’s not rightfully yours!” she cried, turning back to him. “People are going to die, Thorin. Can you live with that?”

“Life is cheap,” he spat.

“Maybe yours is,” she hissed angrily. “But there are thousands of innocent people who have no need to leave this world over greed and pettiness!”

Her head spun to the side as he back-handered her, a gasp of horror escaping. “You bastard,” she breathed. “How _dare_ you!”

“No, how dare _you,_ ” he corrected. “Know your place!”

“Thorin, that place is not at the end of your fist, or your anger,” a voice said. The dwarf turned to see Balin standing off to one side, hovering in the doorway. “You know this, I should not have to point it out.”

“This does not concern you,” Thorin hissed angrily. “Go back from whenst you came!”

Balin took a step forwards. “I will not stand by and watch you strike a woman,” he said sadly. “Particularly not Katalia. You know you are in the wrong.”

“Meddle not, my friend,” Thorin warned.

Katalia’s eyes darted between the two, knowing Balin was so gentle-natured and sedate. The dwarf King however, seemed possessed.

“This is not you, you are not well,” Balin said.

“Do not speak to me of dragon-sickness!” Thorin roared. “The next person to mention that to me will find their lifeless body out for the vultures! I have had enough of meddling and interfering!”

She met Balin’s eyes, and shook her head subtly, knowing there would be no reasoning with the irate ruler.

“Leave us,” Thorin commanded, turning his attention back to her. “We have unfinished business to discuss.”

The smaller elderly dwarf slowly backed away, shaking his head in regret.

Thorin smiled at Katalia.

*****

The edges of her blue velvet cloak swept along the stone floor as she walked the length of the hall, her feet making almost no noise. Torches blazed high above her, mounted onto the walls that arched up towards the heavens. The flames flickered, casting deep shadows around the inside of the mountain.

Bofur turned from his position by the door, assessing her as she approached.

She halted before him, holding his sad eyes as she looked down at him.

“Nobody would blame you for leaving,” he said softly. “He is not the same now, he has changed since he took over the mountain.”

She nodded. “I know. I do not think he can ever find his way back.”

Bofur looked at his feet, before grinning back up at her. “So this is goodbye?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

He nodded in acceptance.

“I cannot do this anymore, my friend,” she whispered. “It is tearing my heart apart, it is destroying me. I need to be away from here, away from him. Away from the evil and the greed that has taken over him.”

“May peace follow you, lass,” the dwarf said, and she knew he meant his words.

“Thankyou,” she said, leaning down and kissing his cheek. “I shall not forget you.”

“Nor I you,” he said with a smile.

She straightened up and turned away, walking swiftly through the entrance and out into the night air. Tugging her silk scarf tighter around her throat, she pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head and stepped out into the darkness.

The trees were dense in the darkness, but she carefully picked her way through the woods, her mind occupied with each step she took. The life she was leaving behind caused her great sorrow; she had many friends but Thorin was not one of them.

He used to be.

She remembered the carefree, happy dwarf with a wicked sense of humour and bravery beyond what she had seen in the dwarf kind. Taking over the mountain had slowly driven him crazy, the amount of treasure hoarded in the depths manifesting a greed indecipherable to those around him. His sense of humour had gone, his rational thoughts had disappeared, and a selfish, cruel persona had taken over.

She doubted he would ever return to the strong ruler she had known.

Taking a deep breath as she cleared the tree line, she gazed upwards at the lights blazing in the ruins of the city before her. Movement indicated a race that had chosen not to sleep this night, as a bustle of activity drew her attention in the otherwise silent stillness of the darkness. She stood for a few moments, assessing what lay before her, then ventured onwards.

She eventually crossed the courtyard, and nobody paid her any attention as she walked amongst the soldiers and servants who went to and fro. The large majestic tent loomed up before her, and she paused, her mind calming and finding a moment of peace.

A guard eyed her as she approached.

“I wish to speak with the King,” she told him.

“The King has given orders that he does not wish to be disturbed,” he replied.

She lifted her chin slightly. “Tell him I have something he desires.”

The guard studied her for a second, before disappearing inside the tent.

Katalia folded her arms and swept her gaze around, absorbing everything around her.

The fabric of the tent hadn’t quite settled into place, and she didn’t see the elf King frown as he focused on her through the small gap.

_Thorin’s woman,_ he thought. _What does she want?_ “Bring her to me,” he instructed the guard, curiosity getting the better of him.

The guard bowed and walked towards the opening, pulling back the heavy cloth. “The King will see you,” he said, holding the opening to allow her to pass through.

Stepping inside, the fabric dropped back into position.

She lifted her eyes and met ice blue that stared back at her.

Nobody spoke.

He eventually rose to his feet, her head tilting upwards as she followed to his full height. Standing at least a full head above her, she refused to look away.

“My guard tells me you have something I desire,” he said, the velvet smoothness of his voice sending shivers down her back.

She smiled. “Indeed I do,” she replied. She lifted her hood from her head and settled it on her shoulders, then pulled the first tie at the neckline of her cloak undone.

Thranduil moved so fast, her heart stopped in fright.

“What gives you the right?” he thundered, gripping her wrist in an iron hold. “You are just like the rest of them!”

Her eyebrows came down in a confused frown. “I do not-“

“Silence!” he roared, his face inches from her own.

She swallowed, fear rising rapidly.

He maintained his steel grip, crushing her wrist in his large hand. “Women like you,” he spat in disgust. “You are all the same. You all want the same thing, to speak of bedding the King. And you – you are worse than most. You have bedded one King, and you think that gives you the passage to bed another.” His eyes burned with rage.

Her eyes widened in shock.

He smirked, reading the fear that lurked there. “With your beauty, I am almost tempted,” he whispered, his mouth dangerously close to her neck as he leaned closer still. “Even though it sickens me to think that he has known the pleasures of your body first.”

Her heart hammered in her chest as she realised what was going through his mind. Wrenching her wrist free from his grip, she planted her fists on his upper chest and pushed as hard as she could, sending him back a few steps.

“You arrogant, conceited bastard!” she hissed, furious. “I would not sleep with you if you were the last male in Middle Earth! I have taste, and I am selective about who I take to bed! If truth be told, with the amount of whores you have taken into yours, you must be riddled with disease!”

A cold mask of unbridled rage took over his features, and before she knew it, his sword was across her throat.

“Give me one good reason why I should not take your head off right here, right now,” he spat. “One good reason.”

The cold, sharp steel bit into her skin.

“I shall give you a handful of reasons,” she shot back, ripping the silk scarf from around her neck.

His eyes lowered, and he gasped in shock. His sword slowly lowered, and he stood as still as a marble statue in front of her, unable to speak. Shock had robbed him of the ability to utter a word.

“If you wish to end my miserable life, then go ahead,” she challenged. “If you think you can live with the guilt.”

Ice blue eyes slowly lifted to hers, the shock evidently clear. He swallowed, trying to formulate words. “The white gems of Lasgalen,” he whispered.

She glared at him, still furious at how he had spoken to her, and treated her. “It was the only way I could get them out of the mountain without drawing attention to myself,” she said, her tone cold. She reached up and undid the crystal necklace, placing it on the table he had previously been seated behind. “I believe they belong to you.”

His gaze had followed the gems, but moved to hers after a few moments. “What do you seek in return?”

She huffed silently, the flames of fire burning in her eyes. “You think things are only done in order to gain,” she said. “You are wrong. You are wrong about a lot of things. You refuse to listen, and to learn. You assume everything is just as you see it, black and white. It is not. There are many shades in between.”

He blinked slowly, still in a visible state of shock over the gems sitting within his reach. “You bring me these,” he whispered. “Yet you ask for nothing in return.” He seemed unable to decide whether to look at her, or the gems.

She inhaled deeply through her nose. “If you have decided _not_ to free my head from my shoulders, I believe I have done what I came here to do. I will take my leave.”

She turned away from him and walked towards the entrance to the tent.

“Wait,” he said.

Katalia swung back around.

“Why?” he asked simply.

She smiled slightly. “My loyalty lies with my people,” she replied, tucking her hair behind her ear as she raised her hood over her head and leaving the tent.

He gasped.

She had elven ears.


	2. Chapter 2

** CHAPTER TWO **

****

She was an _elf???_

Thranduil stood at the table, his fingertips just touching the gems and no more. His mind was going around and around, becoming more and more confused.

Why was an elleth in a relationship with Thorin? Why had she come to him with the gems he was preparing to go to war over? Where was she headed now she had departed from his tent? And what would the dwarf King do when he discovered she and the gems were gone?

He turned away from the table and lifted his glass of wine. The deep red liquid seemed to hold no answers, but he took a drink anyway in an attempt to clear his head. The aroma of her perfume lingered in her absence, bringing a clear image of her back to the forefront of his mind.

He should have seen it the second he’d laid eyes on her. She was far too tall to belong to the dwarves, and far too beautiful. Her eyes were large, a deep blue in colour, framed by thick, dark, long eyelashes. She had high cheekbones and flawless skin, and a mouth that was crying out to be kissed into submission. Her hair fell down her back to a waist that curved out into full hips. Long legs encased in knee-high boots had caught his attention, as had her full breasts that had brushed his chest as he’d leaned in to her.

Shaking his head, he frowned. What was she doing with Oakenshield? It was highly unusual for an elf to mate with a dwarf, as they tended to remain with their own kind. His mind continued to run around in circles, making him more and more confused. He did not think the dwarf King had married; word would have reached his ears if he had. That meant she was solely a bed-mate for him, and he felt sick as he contemplated the theory.

Elves were not property, to any race.

Swirling the wine in the glass, he took another mouthful, enjoying the burn as he swallowed it. Nothing made sense.

He glanced back at the gems lying on the table. The candlelight in the tent reflected off them, dazzling him. Reaching out, he traced the tip of one finger over the perfectly crafted piece of jewellery, marvelling over the beauty. A heavy sadness settled over his heart as he went back through time in his mind, remembering the one they had been crafted for.

He slammed the glass onto the surface, lifting the gems and settling them safely within his cloak. The past was gone; the way forward had just walked out into the darkness of the night, taking the answers he needed with her.

He pushed out through the cloth of the tent, gazing around. “Where did she go?” he demanded, turning to the guard who stood to his left.

“That way, my Lord,” he replied, pointing further to his left.

“Did she have a horse?” he asked.

“No, my Lord. She was on foot.”

Thranduil took a deep breath. Calling two other guards over, he gave instructions for them to follow him, and strode off in the direction his guard had indicated.

His inner radar guided him along the path she had taken, his instinct telling him she had chosen to turn right at the fork in the middle of the woods. The undergrowth tugged at his cloak, the darkness encompassing everything around him, but he knew he wouldn’t get lost. His guards fell back a little, sensing he was on a personal mission. He lifted low-hanging branches out of his way as he swept through the woodland, stepping over fallen boughs that lay across his path.

Thinking that she must have moved at speed, his ears pricked up at the slight sound of rustling just up ahead. He quickened his pace, stepping over a small stream that gushed at his feet.

“Wait!” he called, catching sight of a dark figure hurrying through the trees. “Stop!”

The figure kept moving, disappearing from his line of vision. He cursed under his breath, and made his way after her. Breaking clear of the tree line, he stopped, glancing around.

“If you meant to take my life, you should have done it at the time,” a voice said.

He whipped around.

She stood just behind his right shoulder.

“I do not intend to take your life,” he said.

“Then why did you follow me?” she demanded. “My job is done. I did what I came to do.”

“Where will you go?” he asked, stepping a little closer. “You cannot return to Oakenshield.”

“I have no intention of returning,” she said. “The mountain is no longer my home. Perhaps it has not been for some time, I just did not realise it until now.”

He gazed at her, the moon lighting her beautiful features. Dark eyes watched him.

“You are not safe,” he said. “He will find you wherever you go.”

She shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not.”

He took another step, stopping right in front of her. “You will need protection. Oakenshield will kill you when he finds you.”

A soft noise whistled through the air, followed by a dull thud.

“Too late,” she gasped, falling forwards.

He automatically lifted his hands and grabbed her, cursing fluently in Sindarin as he saw an arrow embedded in her back as she collapsed in his arms.

“Traitor!” a voice screamed.

He recognised it as Thorin’s, and roared for his guards. They sprang from the trees and aimed their arrows into the darkness in defence of their King. Lifting her full weight into his arms, he turned and disappeared back into the woods, ordering the guards to cover his back. He hurried back the way they had come, the elf in his hold unconscious.

Once he reached the area the elves had congregated in for the night, he shouted for his healer to be brought to his tent, and rushed inside.

“My Lord…what happened?” the guard posted outside asked in shock. “Are you alright?”

“I am fine,” he replied, carefully placing Katalia on her side on the bed. He shrugged out of his cloak, dropping the garment at his feet. “I was not hit. Oakenshield is behind this…alert all those on guard and double the watch. I want this woman protected; nothing and no one gets to her.”

“Yes, my Lord,” the guard said with a bow, and vanished.

The healer entered the tent, yawning. “My Lord,” he greeted the King. He cast his gaze over the injured female. “Does she still breathe?”

“Barely,” Thranduil replied. “Do what you can with her. I will assist.”

The healer nodded, stepping over to the bed and setting his bag next to her. “I shall have to cut the tunic away from the wound,” he muttered to himself.

The King brandished a sharp knife and tore the fabric down her back to expose the injury.

Both of them gasped.

Her back was bruised; heavy bruises that had been inflicted recently.

The healer lifted his eyes to Thranduil’s questioningly, who shrugged.

“I do not know how she came to have these,” he said. Rolling his sleeves up, he prepared to remove the arrow.

The two of them worked on her for over two hours, trying to stop the bleeding, and chanting spells as they applied healing herbs. Heat built up inside the tent, and the healer showed signs of exhaustion after the first hour and a half. Thranduil didn’t, his focus completely on the elf who lay before him. Eventually he told the healer to leave, knowing he wouldn’t be beneficial anymore. Placing both hands on the wound on her back, he closed his eyes, chanting slowly in a soft tone. A deep warmth passed from his hands into her, and back again.

Eventually he broke contact, and stepped back, satisfied that she would survive. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a second or two, breathing deeply.

He needed to rest.

Carefully, he placed a dressing over the wound, taping it into place. The bleeding had stopped, and he wanted to make sure it didn’t start again. He pulled a soft blanket gently over her shoulders, and smoothed his hand over her hair.

Sinking down onto his chair a few feet away, he leaned his elbow on the armrest, resting his head on his hand, just watching her.

*****

Katalia opened her eyes, instantly aware of a burning pain in between her shoulder blades. Her neck was sore as she was lying on her stomach with her head turned to one side. Taking a deep breath, she tried to roll over.

“Stay still,” a deep voice said, and she recognised it as being Thranduil’s.

He stepped into view, peeling back the blanket. A shudder ran through her as the cool air hit her skin.

“I need to check your wound,” he told her, his tone low. He peeled back the dressing, murmering to himself as he inspected what lay underneath. Replacing it, he pulled the blanket back over her. “You cannot move for a while yet.”

She eyed him. “You saved my life,” she said. “Thankyou.”

He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “You have no need to thank me,” he said as he turned away. “But it was foolish to leave by yourself. You should have known Oakenshield would be angry at what you have done.”

“I care not,” she muttered, lowering her head back onto her hands.

He turned back to her. “I am surprised you went against your lover,” he commented.

Blue fire flashed at him. “I am not in control of what you think,” she replied.

“Nevertheless, you will need my protection, at least until you are well enough to travel,” he said. “I suggest you remain here. As you can see, we are no longer out by the mountain.”

She blinked in surprise, her eyes sweeping before her.

Indeed they were not.

They were in a warm room, with pale walls and plants growing all around.

“We are in Mirkwood,” he said in answer to her unspoken question. “You are in the healing rooms.”

“How long was I unconscious?” she asked.

“A little over one night and one day,” he told her. “It was not safe to remain where we were, so I had you moved and brought back with us.”

She mulled over his words. “Thankyou,” she said eventually. “But Thorin will probably follow.”

He shook his head. “He will not get through my forest without my knowledge,” he assured her. “My patrols let nothing slip past them. He and his company were caught the last time they tried to cross my lands.”

Her eyes had started to drift closed again, and he moved to her side, holding a cup.

“Drink this,” he said softly, holding it to her. “The herbs will aid your healing.”

She propped herself up onto her elbows, tugging the blanket protectively around her, and took it from him. Her face screwed up in disgust at the sour taste, but she finished it and handed it back to him.

“Go back to sleep,” he said, and she closed her eyes as he felt the warmth of his hand on the top of her head.

*****

“My Lord Thranduil,” a cheerful voice said.

He turned, facing Elrond as he entered his study.

“My Lord Elrond,” he replied. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Elrond laughed, knowing the two didn’t often see eye-to-eye. “I hear you have the company of an elleth here in Mirkwood, one who returned certain gems to you,” he replied.

“Word travels fast,” Thranduil commented as he poured two glasses of wine. “She rests in my healing rooms.”

Elrond accepted the glass. “Katalia is an interesting person,” he commented. “With an interesting story.”

“I have no desire to learn why she decided to become Oakenshield’s lover,” Thranduil said dryly. “What she does is her own business.”

The Lord lifted one eyebrow, knowing jealous curiosity when he saw it. “You jump to the wrong conclusions, my friend,” he remarked.

Thranduil’s gaze swept in his direction.

Elrond lowered himself into a seat, crossing one knee over the other as he sipped his wine. “Katalia was one of my finest fighters, many years ago,” he said. “She was the head of my guards, kept them all in line, oversaw their training, organised their strategies.”

Thranduil followed suit and seated himself, his interest spiked.

“She was fighting alongside Thorin’s father when his wife died unexpectedly,” Elrond continued. “Thrain trusted her implicitly, and once the battle was over he requested she take on the role of helping to raise his son, who was merely an infant. I was taken aback when her request arrived to take her leave from my service, but I knew she would not have chosen her path if she had not felt it was the right thing to do.”

“So she was Thrain’s lover?” Thranduil proposed.

Elrond shook his head. “Far from it. She devoted the following years to raising the child, educating him in reading and writing, taught him how to fight and defend himself. She gave him many skills, the most important one being the commitment and presence of a parent-figure that he lacked with his mother gone. His father was always out fighting battles, negotiating with other races, or off hunting. He seldom saw him, and Katalia was the only consistent presence he knew.”

The elf King gazed into his wine glass. “So what changed? Why did she never marry?” he asked.

“She was completely devoted to the child in her care,” Elrond replied. “Many an ellon expressed their wish to court her, but she turned them all down, concentrating on bringing Thorin to adulthood.”

Thranduil frowned. “But he tried to kill her,” he murmered.

“Because she took the gems from him and returned them to you,” he said. “Remember, her roots are elvish, not dwarfish. Her loyalty may have been in raising and training Thorin, but her blood is as pure Sindarin as yours, my friend.”

Their eyes met, and Elrond smirked.

“She is Sindarin,” he repeated. “She knew the gems were not in their rightful place, or with their rightful owner. Her blood will not allow her to do nothing where her people are concerned.”

Thranduil thought this over. “Then why did she leave her post to take on a mother role to a dwarf infant?”

“She was orphaned as a young child herself, and knows what it is to grow up without parents,” Elrond told him. “I suppose she did not wish that to fall into the lap of an infant, when she had the means to ensure otherwise.”

“A selfless act,” Thranduil murmered, lost in thought. He snapped back to the present and looked back at his guest. “I insulted her.”

Elrond laughed heartily. “I would expect nothing less,” he chuckled. “Are you going to feed me while I am here? I shall be leaving in a few hours, and could do with some refreshment before I go.”

He frowned, rising to his feet. “Where are you headed?”

Elrond followed him to the door and out into the corridor, explaining his destination which by chance, had presented the opportunity to drop by for a visit on the way.


	3. Chapter 3

** CHAPTER THREE **

****

The melodic sound of birds cheeping and chirping drifted in through the open window. Blazing sun lit up the room, and Katalia rubbed the back of her neck as she stood gazing out over the tops of the trees.

A knock on the door pulled her back to reality, and she turned towards it as a guard presented himself.

“The King requests your presence, m’lady,” he announced, with a short bow.

She wordlessly crossed the floor, her bare feet silent on the thick rugs. Following the guard, she walked down what seemed like miles and miles of corridors, lit with blazing torches mounted above head height. The skirts of the dress she wore swished around her ankles as she moved.

Various servants and guards passed her, each one bowing their head and nodding in acknowledgement. It seemed that word spread like wildfire in the kingdom of Mirkwood.

“The King awaits you, m’lady,” the guard told her, coming to a stop next to ornate wooden doors. He knocked once and opened the door for her.

“Thankyou,” she said, stepping inside.

The room was fairly large, lined on two walls with books arranged neatly on shelves. A polished desk sat near the far end, with a heavy chair behind it. Piles of documents and parchments covered most of the desk’s surface. A few books settled on one edge of it, along with a pitcher of water.

Her gaze was drawn to the occupant of the room.

Thranduil stood with his back to her, in front of the window. His head was lowered, his long blond hair flowing down his back. Strong, broad shoulders seemed slouched, as though he carried the weight of the world on them.

A few minutes passed before he lifted his head slightly and looked over his shoulder.

“I trust you are well rested,” he said. His voice made the hairs on her arms stand on end.

“Yes, thankyou,” she replied.

He turned his body to her. His eyes met hers, and she could read the turmoil in the ice blue depths. “I owe you an apology,” he said quietly. “And an explanation.”

“You owe me nothing,” she said.

He sensed a slight touch of coldness in her tone, but he wasn’t surprised. Leaving the window, he walked past her and lowered himself onto a plush couch that sat against the back wall where the doors were. “Please,” he said, indicating that she sit also.

She inhaled deeply and stepped towards it, sitting at the far end away from him, settling her skirts around her.

“Your clothing will be returned to you by nightfall,” he said, taking in the deep green dress she wore. “I hope this is suitable in the meantime.”

“It is,” she answered. “Thankyou.”

He turned his head away, breathing deeply through his nose. “I judged you unfairly,” he said after a long pause. “I said things I had no place saying, and accused you of repulsive motives.” His eyes met hers once more. “I was wrong.”

“You appear to be more informed than when we last spoke,” she said decidedly, crossing one leg over the other.

He nodded, pursing his mouth. Her eyes lowered to follow the movement, before she purposefully looked away.

“Lord Elrond graced me with his presence a few days ago,” he said.

A slight smile curved her lips. “How is he?”

“He is in good health,” he replied. “He travels for council with Mithrandir and Galadriel.”

“Then I assume his visit is why you are aware of your wrong assumptions,” Katalia said.

“Yes. He told me of your past, your role with his armies, and how you raised Oakenshield from childhood,” he said. Ice blue eyes met hers. “You devoted many years to another, who tried to end your life.”

She blinked, looking away.

“I am curious to know of the bruises you carry,” he said softly.

She shifted uncomfortably. “There is nothing to know of,” she replied.

“Did he inflict them upon you?” he asked after a few moments of silence. He reached across and gently turned her head towards him with his fingertips.

Blue eyes brimmed with tears held his. “Yes,” she whispered. “He has changed. He is no longer the child I invested so much time in.”

He released her, dropping his hand back to his lap. “No woman should suffer at the hands of a male,” he said. “Particularly not when she has guided him through his life to this point in time.”

“Dragon-sickness has overcome him,” she answered. “He is ruled by a deep greed that burns through his blood. He cannot see past the treasure he resides over. He has almost become the dragon.” Her fingers toyed with the fabric of her skirts. “Nobody can get through to him, to make him see what he has become.”

Thranduil took a deep breath. “His grandfather was the same,” he said. “His greed was his downfall. Oakenshield will follow suit unless he chooses a different path.”

“He will not,” she said. “He is too deep; too lost to the hunger for more.”

Both heads turned towards the door as a knock sounded.

“Enter,” Thranduil commanded, and a guard presented himself.

“My apologies, my Lord,” he said. “The council are ready for you now.”

The King nodded, and the guard disappeared.

“Join me for dinner,” he said to Katalia. “Please. We still have much to discuss.”

She considered for a moment, before nodding in acceptance. “I would be honoured,” she said.

“The honour will be mine,” he replied, rising to his feet and extending his hand to her. She grasped it and stood, acutely aware of the warm flesh she held and the difference in height as he towered over her. “I will send for you.”

She nodded, stepping past him as he ushered her before him.

*****

The day passed quickly.

Wandering around the palace, Katalia found herself at the edge of the training ground, where dozens of soldiers sparred and practiced. She folded her arms, watching their moves, commenting to herself different ways that they could improve on their skills.

“My lady Katalia,” a guard greeted her as he approached. He stopped in front of her, with a bow. “I am Haldron, head of the training grounds.”

She tilted her head in acknowledgement. “Good afternoon, Haldron,” she replied. “I see the practice is going well.”

He nodded. “I have heard much of your legendary skills,” he complimented her. “Would you care to demonstrate?”

She grinned. “It has been many a year since I wielded a sword,” she said. “But I must confess – your offer sounds like a challenge.”

He returned her grin. “Only one being has ever been capable of victory over myself; King Thranduil,” he told her. “As yet, I am unbeaten by any other.”

She stepped towards him, shrugging her cloak from her shoulders in a fluid movement. “Let us put that to the test then,” she said. She folded the garment over one arm, linking the other through the arm Haldron offered.

High up in the palace, Thranduil stood out on a balcony, watching with interest.

She had changed into a loose-fitting tunic and trousers which were tucked into her knee-high boots, making it easier for her to move around.

This should be interesting.

Soldiers moved aside as they walked across the field towards the range of weapons on display.

“One sword or two?” she asked.

Haldron shrugged. “Your call, my lady,” he replied.

“Just Katalia, please,” she told him, running her fingertip down the flat edge of several blades. She selected one in particular, and lifted it from the rack, testing the weight and balance in her hands.

Thranduil leaned his forearms on the wall, frowning.

She walked away from Haldron, stopping in the centre of the grass and turning to him. She quickly tied her hair back into a long pony tail that hung down her back.  A slight smile played around the corners of her mouth as she lifted her chosen weapon up before her, her gaze running up and down the polished steel in appreciation.

Her eyes shifted and she locked gazes with Haldron, lashing quickly out at him as she spun in a circle towards him, catching him off-guard. He hastily brought his sword up in defence, but a flick of her wrist sent the weapon downwards.

She circled around him, eyeing him like a predator. He returned her stare, a slight smirk hovering on his mouth. Bringing his sword round in a side sweep, she blocked it effortlessly, knocking the steel aside, and continued to pace around him.

“Do not hold back because I am female,” she told him. “Do not let my genetics fool you.”

“I have no intention of doing so,” he replied, swinging at her again.

Once more she deflected the blow, this time sending the sword from his grasp to bounce onto the grass. He leapt towards it, but she flicked the tip of her sword underneath it, propelling it further away.

“I know you carry more than one blade,” she said, still waking around him, making him turn to keep her in his line of vision. “Whereas I am armed with only one.”

An eyebrow lifted, and he produced a long knife from the calf of his boot, slicing it in front of her. Each swipe was knocked aside, and she could see his temper rising.

The soldiers around them had stopped their practice and fallen silent, watching the two face off against each other.

They circled round each other, not breaking their stare. Haldron was slightly unnerved by Katalia’s eyes, feeling like she could see into his soul.

She couldn’t, but she was reading his eyes, predicting his next move before he acted. Time and time again he lunged at her, and she either dodged to the side as she fought him off, or turned in sweeping circles, confusing him as she lashed back at him.

His control was slipping, and she could sense it.

Up on the balcony, Thranduil clenched his teeth. He was the only one to have ever beaten Haldron in a duel, but Katalia seemed to have the upper hand, her movements smooth and faultless. Each step was done with precision, each bounce on her heels carried out with effortless grace. It was almost as though she danced.

The guard made the mistake of allowing his emotions to rule him, and he stooped low, swiping his blade at her lower legs. She jumped up, his knife slashing harmlessly through the air. Landing back on her feet with her knees bent, she swung her sword upwards, knocking the knife from his hand.

Gasps and laughter filtered across to her ears, but she ignored them.

“Enough horseplay I think, m’lady,” Haldron decided, swooping down to retrieve his sword from where it had landed at the beginning of their duel.

“My sentiments exactly,” she replied, her blade making swishing noises as she brandished it in a figure 8 in front of her.

The two attacked each other, an angry, vicious energy flowing between them. Haldron wasn’t about to lose face in front of those he trained, and Katalia wasn’t going to bow down to defeat and lose her reputation either. She twirled around as he fought against her, seeming to relax at one point as she toyed with him. He swung faster, his reach going further, but she was far too light on her feet, with cat-like reflexes that put his to shame.

The guard grunted in frustration, pulling another knife from his other boot. She swiped his sword aside, but didn’t have time to react as the handle of the knife thudded into her cheekbone, knocking her backwards three or four paces.

The crowd gasped.

Her eyes changed, and she flew at her opponent, swinging her sword in moves designed to kill. The practice spar was over.

Haldron used both blades against her onslaught, but he didn’t have the fury she had. Her sword disarmed him of both blades and she booted his feet out from under him, sending him crashing to his back on the grass.

Her boot planted firmly against his chest, the tip of her blade at his throat.

“Enough!” a voice bellowed.

“I believe I win,” she said softly, withdrawing the sword and stepping back.

Thranduil stormed over the grass towards them, sending the gathered soldiers scattering for cover. He came to a halt as Haldron scrambled to his feet.

“My Lord-“ he began.

Thranduil held his hand up to silence him, and he stopped instantly. Ice blue eyes glared at Katalia.

Fury radiated from him as he turned to his guard. “What do you think you were doing?” he demanded.

“Lady Katalia accepted-“

“At no point did Lady Katalia agree to an unfair fight!” he shouted. “What you did was underhanded! Did you forget you were up against a female? A female who is my guest here, not an enemy orc?!”

“My Lord-“

“Get out of my sight!” he hissed, and Haldron hastily disappeared.

He turned to Katalia, lifting her chin and inspecting the gash below her right eye. “My healers will tend to this,” he said. His eyebrows came down in a frown. “What were you doing?”

She shrugged. “He challenged me; I accepted,” she replied.

He shook his head. “It was not a fair combat,” he told her. “I will see to it that he is punished.”

“That is your decision,” she replied, turning away from him and crossing over to replace her weapon. “I knew what I was getting into.”

“Nevertheless, he should not have acted in such ways,” he said. “Come. I will take you to the healing rooms, where this can be seen to.” He indicated her cheek, covered with a steady flow of blood. “Afterwards, we can eat.”

She nodded in acceptance, following him over the grass towards the palace.


	4. Chapter 4

** CHAPTER FOUR **

****

A guard escorted Katalia to the room where Thranduil wished to dine, a small room tucked away in a corner of the palace she hadn’t explored during her rounds earlier in the day. She had been to the healing rooms, where a chatty healer named Calina had tended to her wound, cleaning it and carefully applying a clear paste to assist with the healing.

Having gone back to the room she had been given, she had bathed and changed, finding a deep blue velvet dress laid out on the bed for her. Feeling refreshed and re-energised, she felt she could handle having dinner with the elf King.

He rose from his seat as the guard showed her into the room and closed the door behind her. Stepping out from the table, he approached her and took her hand, inspecting her cheek.

“Calina?” he inquired.

“Yes,” she said. “How did you know?”

“The amount of time you were in there,” he replied in a dry tone, leading her towards the table. “Calina is a very gifted healer, but she forgets how to keep silent most of the time.” He pulled a chair out for her, and she lowered herself onto it, thanking him as he returned to his seat.

He gestured for her to eat, indicating the plate heaped with food that lay before her. “I have decided to remove Haldron from his duties until the next new moon,” he said. “He must learn the consequences of his actions.”

She frowned, taking the glass of wine he handed to her. “Like I said previously, it is your decision,” she said. “However, I was under no illusions when I accepted his offer.”

Ice blue eyes met hers briefly. “He should have known better,” he told her. “To spar with a female is one thing; to deceive and injure her is another.”

She smirked. “I will live,” she responded.

“I brought you here for protection, and to heal,” he said. “Not to be injured or hurt further.”

“And you have my gratitude,” she replied. “But I am not fragile; I can hold my own in a fight.”

“I saw,” he remarked with a slight smirk. “You are the only other besides myself to have victory over him. I predict his ego is severely bruised after such a defeat.” His eyes moved to the purple bruise that had formed around the cut on her cheek, a result of the impact of the knife handle. “I wish to discuss bruises,” he said, lifting his eyes back to hers. “With your consent.”

“They are blemishes caused by blood gathering beneath the surface of the skin,” she told him, pointing out what she knew to be the obvious. A spark of amusement flickered in her eyes. “Caused by trauma to the tissue beneath the surface.”

He gave her a wry look, and she laughed. “I know what a bruise is,” he said. “I am referring to the bruises you have.”

“I know,” she chuckled, spearing a potato with her fork. “What can I say? Thorin took his anger out on me for challenging him regarding ownership of the white gems.”

Thranduil inhaled deeply through his nose. “He had no right.”

“I agree, but he is of the mindset that he is the King, therefore no one should challenge him, on any matter,” she said. “Even myself.”

He glanced at her. “Did you not consider what he would do with you leaving and taking the gems?”

“Yes,” she replied. “But like I said at the time, my loyalty lies with my own people. And whether you or he like it or not, I _am_ an elf.”

He frowned. “I did not disapprove,” he said. “I was merely surprised.”

“You were shocked,” she corrected as she chewed. “You thought I was either a freak of dwarf nature, or a human.”

“I knew you were not a dwarf,” he said. “You are too-“ He stopped. _Beautiful._ “Tall.”

“Your mind must have been tying itself into knots that would make a sailor jealous,” she observed, and he smirked.

“I admit that. Your hair…you wear it over your ears,” he said.

“Thorin did not like to be reminded of my elf heritage,” she explained. “It seemed a more peaceful solution to cover them. Now I am merely accustomed to having my hair over my ears.”

“You should never be ashamed of who or what you are,” he said.

“I am not,” she replied. “It made life easier, that is all.”

A silence settled over them as they ate.

“I assumed you were Oakenshield’s lover,” he said after a while.

She snorted. “Not likely.”

“I understand that now,” he said. He leaned his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers. “There is something I wish to say.”

She set her fork down, lifting her wine and taking a drink. “I am listening.”

He sighed. “Even before I took over my father’s rule, women always chased me around, wanted to get closer, wanted to – to be with me,” he said. “It was worse when I became King. Everywhere I looked, some female would be throwing herself at me.”

She grinned. “And you are complaining, why?”

He scowled at her. “That is not who I am,” he told her. “I made the mistake of assuming you were the same, and I regret that sorely.”

She shrugged. “It is nothing. It has passed.”

“Nevertheless…you came with the message that you had something I desired,” he said. “Then you started to undo your cloak…I thought…”

“I know what you thought,” she said, a sharp edge to her voice. “But I am _not_ like your league of devoted followers and worshippers. I have lived my life alone by my own choosing, and I intend to do so in the future. Do not cast every woman in the same category, that is all I ask. We are not all alike.”

_Such a pity,_ he thought. _Because you are one I would not have turned away._ “I understand that,” he acknowledged. “And I ask for your forgiveness.”

“And you have it,” she answered. “Do not carry around the burden of what you said, or how you acted.”

He looked away from her, a brief image of how he’d pressed against her coming back to his mind. “I do not usually treat females with such…contempt,” he said.

“Then I suppose I must be the exception to the rule,” she quipped. “Look…I know tensions were running high over the future of the gems. On both sides.”

“That is no excuse,” he said. He turned back to her. “I have a proposition for you.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “That sounds ominous,” she said.

“Given what has happened with the dwarf, I see it impossible for you to return to the mountain,” he said. “I would ask that you remain here, under my protection.”

“Why?” she asked with a frown. “I could just as easily go to the Shire.”

He nodded. “You have done me a great justice by returning the gems,” he said. “It is a debt I will never be able to repay. Those gems were crafted for my wife, but she never had the chance to wear them. They now go to my son, Legolas. That is something that is precious to me.”

She twirled the stem of her glass between her fingers.

“There are several youngsters in the palace, who would benefit greatly from your guidance and tuition,” he continued. “Would you consider it?”

Her blue eyes gazed into his, as she turned his offer over in her mind. The palace itself was beautiful beyond description, an endless visual delight. The whole kingdom appeared to run smoothly under the watchful eye of Thranduil.

That was her stumbling block.

_Thranduil._

She would be lying to nobody except herself if she denied being attracted to him. Everything about him drew her to him, his very aura demanding acknowledgement. Each time his eyes met hers, her blood rushed a little faster and her heart pounded harder. Physically he was stunning. His long blond hair fuelled a thousand fantasies in her mind, his warm hands whenever they had touched hers sparked a furnace of longing deep within her.

This was not an ideal situation to be caught up in.

“Will you allow me time to think about it?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“Of course,” he nodded. “You would have everything you could ever need here in Mirkwood, should you take up my offer.”

_Not quite,_ she thought to herself as she sipped her wine. _I would not have you._

“What happens if I accept, and Thorin comes looking for me?” she asked. “The longer I stay here, the higher the chances are of him attempting to find me. He must know I am here.”

“I do not doubt it,” he replied coolly. “But he also knows he cannot trespass onto my land and not suffer the consequences. The last time he attempted it, he ended up in my dungeons.”

She tilted her head slightly in acknowledgement. “It would not prevent him from trying.”

“Then he has to deal with me,” he said. “I gave you my oath; I will protect you.”

_Who will protect me from you?_ She thought. “I will give you my answer in the morning,” she said, setting her wine down.

“I look forward to it,” he said with a smile. “Would you walk with me? The gardens are beautiful beyond words at this time of the evening.”

“Yes, I would like that,” she said, rising to her feet.

He ushered her in front of him, opening the door to guide her out into the hallway. Instructing the guard to remain where he was, he held his arm out, and she put hers through it.

They passed along the hallways and out of the palace.

*****

“Elrond told me you schooled the dwarf,” Thranduil commented as they slowly made their way along the soft grass. “In what disciplines?”

“All of them,” she answered. “Reading, writing, counting, fighting, fitness, artistic abilities. I taught him of his heritage, his grandfather’s legacy and his father before him. He learned of customs and ways that would take him through life.”

He processed this. “Yet he hated the fact that you are an elf.”

She shrugged. “He has a deep-set hatred of the elvish kind,” she said. “I did not get into it with him; I was there merely to counsel him and guide him from childhood.”

He stopped, staring at her for several seconds. “So you were essentially a mother-figure to him,” he stated.

“Yes.”

He started walking again, exhaling heavily through his nose. “And he turned on you and physically assaulted you.”

She remained silent.

“The dragon-sickness has completely destroyed his soul,” he said. “None should ever turn against their mother, no matter what the circumstances.”

“I was not his mother,” she pointed out. “I never was, and I never acted like I was. He knew from the beginning that I was there solely to guide him.”

“Nevertheless, he still bit the hand that fed him,” he counteracted. “Such darkness, such evil in this world.”

“I am not the only one he has turned against,” she said, her bare toes flexing in the soft grass. “He threatened Dwalin with death for opposing him, and he accused Fili and Kili of keeping the Arkenstone from him. His mind has warped.”

“I wish for you to have the chambers you occupied upon leaving the healing rooms,” he said, changing the subject without warning. “I trust they are suitable?”

“More than suitable,” she replied. “I do not require anything so grand. A simple room with a bed will do.”

He waved her comment away impatiently with one hand. “Nonsense. I will assign a maid to you, and she will attend to your every need. If there is anything else that you require, let me know immediately.”

She stopped, turning to him. “Thranduil, this is not a debt that you spend the rest of your life repaying,” she said softly.

Ice blue eyes held hers. “It is a debt that I can never repay,” he said softly. “That necklace was made from the gems that were the heirlooms of my ancestors. They are priceless to me. What they symbolise is priceless to my son; it is all he has that belonged to his mother.”

“I understand that,” she told him. “Still – you saved my life afterwards, and I think that settles any debt you feel that you owe.”

“I will be the judge of what I owe,” he responded. “Besides,” he added with a slight smirk. “It is a waste to see an elf residing in a dwarf community away from her natural background.”

She rolled her eyes as they started walking again. “I thought there might be something along those lines in your plan,” she said.

He shrugged with a touch of arrogance. “Dwarves are not up to our social status,” he said simply. “Here, you will be treated in the way you deserve to be, not holed up in a cold, dirty mountain with ill-mannered and obnoxious dwarves for company.”

She couldn’t help laugh. “They are not all like that,” she said. “Some of them are amazing people, when you get to know them. Not all, admittedly, but most of them.”

“I gather you were acquainted with Lord Dain at some point during your time there?”

“Yes, I taught him for a period of time also,” she said. “He was more difficult to teach – the man would argue black was white just for the sake of having a debate.”

A smile curved his lips, drawing her attention to them. “I do not doubt that,” he said. “Another stubborn, facetious example of the dwarf race.”

“He has his good points,” she murmered, her attention caught by the setting sun which splashed streak of red across the sky. “This is beautiful.”

They stopped under the cover of a large tree, the branches above them whispering softly in the warm breeze.

“A better view than that from the mountain?” he quipped.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Now you are pushing it.”

He laughed, the sound sending tiny sparks of awareness through her central nervous system. “I apologise,” he said, shaking his head. “One cannot blame me for trying.”

“I suppose not,” she murmered, turning back to the view before her.


	5. Chapter 5

** CHAPTER FIVE **

****

“So, if I have four apples, and I give one to Belania, how many do I have left?” Katalia questioned, indicating the four pieces of fruit before her.

The six youngsters looked from the apples to her, then back to the apples. Nobody answered.

She picked up one of the apples, and held it out to Belania, and the child hesitantly took it from her. “Now how many do I have?”

“Three!” Milak shouted, bouncing up and down on his rear. “Three!”

“Good, well done,” she praised, ruffling the youngster’s dark hair. “Now if Belania gives me the apple back, how many do I have?” She motioned for the fruit, which the girl promptly gave her, and she sat in next to the others. “Come on, count how many I have now.”

“Five?” asked a soft voice.

She looked at Kaydon, shaking her head gently. “Count again,” she prompted.

“Four?” he guessed.

She nodded. “Good. Tomorrow we will work a little more with the apples, and maybe do some writing. But you all need to promise to practice one, two, three, and four for me by tomorrow, alright?”

A chorus of agreement sounded from the assembled children, and they leapt to their feet and rushed out of the library at her indication.

“Impressive,” a deep voice commented, and she turned to see the King standing in the doorway, leaning on the frame with his arms folded.

She smiled. “I forgot how hard it can be sometimes to get information to stay in their little minds,” she remarked, stretching her arms above her head to loosen stiff muscles.

Thranduil watched the movement, his gaze drawn to her breasts as they pushed forwards. He swallowed. “They absorb things extremely quickly at that age,” he said, stepping into the room. “I have a request.”

“I am listening.”

He hesitated. “You mentioned during our walk a few nights past that you are good with animals.”

She nodded.

“I have recently acquired a horse,” he said, frowning. “A beautiful creature, but a high-spirited beast. None of the stable-hands so far have been able to get near him.”

She folded her arms, puzzled. “Why not?”

He hesitated. “He bites and kicks,” he admitted grudgingly, and she laughed.

“And you want me to do my thing and break him.”

“I was hoping you would have a look in on him if you were passing the stables,” he said, trying to make the request sound a little less direct.

She rose to her feet. “I could do with stretching my legs,” she said. “Show me this untameable animal that you have.”

She followed him from the library and through the palace, where he spoke to several guards on the way, each one bowing with respect and giving him their utmost attention. When they reached the stables, her attention immediately went to a grey and white horse which was kicking off in his stable. The animal threw his head around, whinnying and kicking his back hooves against the stable wall.

Katalia stood for several minutes, just observing. Thranduil stood patiently at her side, more aware of her than the animal which was going wild.

She stepped forwards, going over to lean on the lower half of the stable door. The horse within immediately went still, eyeing her with trepidation. She held the animal’s gaze, not moving or speaking.

Ten minutes passed, and neither of them had moved a fraction.

Thranduil was curious.

She slowly extended one hand, palm upwards, with one of the apples from her lesson placed on it. And waited.

The horse slowly ambled over after attempting to out-stare her and failing. He stopped just in front of her hand.

She jerked back as his teeth smashed together, just missing her fingertips.

“Are you alright?” Thranduil cried, rushing to her side.

The horse went mental at his presence, and started making an unbearable racket.

“Yes,” she answered, turning to him. “Leave me with him. He is unsettled with your presence.”

He frowned. “I will not leave you in a situation where you may come to harm,” he said.

“I will not,” she replied. “I need time to figure him out, find out why he’s so spooked and vicious. Trust me. I will not go inside if I deem it unsafe. You have my word.”

He clenched his teeth. “Take every precaution,” he warned, turning on his heel and storming off.

She frowned. He was angry because she had told him to leave, but it was obvious the animal was unsettled with him around. Heaving a sigh, she turned her attention back to the horse, ignoring everything else around her.

*****

Thranduil paced the floor, irate at the outcome of the latest meeting. The problem of orcs entering his lands did not sit well, and he had immediately dispatched forces to deal with the problem. The cause of their entry to Mirkwood forest also presented a problem.

He glanced out of the window as he passed, stopping in his tracks.

Katalia had managed to get a bridle on the horse, and was walking it around the courtyard in large circles at a slow pace. The animal walked obediently beside her, seemingly quite content. Her lips moved occasionally, and he knew she was speaking to the animal.

Shaking his head, he turned away from the window and went over to his desk, throwing himself down onto the chair.

A while later, Katalia stormed into the study.

He glanced up, angered at the intrusion, but his gaze softened slightly when it landed on her.

She however, looked like she was ready to tear him limb from limb.

“Where did that horse come from?” she demanded, leaning both fists on the desk and glaring at him.

“And good evening to you too, my day has gone exceptionally well,” he said, a hint of sarcasm to his deep voice.

She raised one eyebrow at him. “Where?”

He sighed, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest. “He was found wandering around in the forest,” he answered. “My patrol found him, and also came upon a dead human less than a mile away. I assumed the horse belonged to him.”

She scowled. “That horse has been systematically abused,” she hissed.

He frowned. “In what way?”

“I think he was used for animal fighting,” she said. “There are several bites along his underside, and down the inside of his back legs. Bites from dogs, several different dogs.”

“Why would dogs attack him?” he asked in confusion.

“The humans sometimes do it as a sick sport,” she explained patiently. “They train the dogs to fight to the death against each other. I feel that somehow, that horse has been used in the training somewhere along the way. And I would wager it was a male, or males, who instigated it. That is why he is so unsettled in the presence of males.”

“I do not understand the reasoning behind such a sport,” he murmered, his gaze drifting away from her as his mind wandered.

“They place wagers on a particular dog to win,” she told him.

Ice blue eyes flashed in anger as they connected with hers. “That is despicable,” he raged.

“I know,” she said, nodding in agreement. “I do think that I can work with him, but he will take a lot of time, and a lot of patience. If you wish me to continue, you will have to remove all males from him in the meantime.”

He contemplated her suggestion. “Do you feel it is worth the effort?” he asked. “Would it not be better to put the animal out of his misery?”

Her eyes widened in horror. “No it would not,” she snapped, and winced at the look that crossed his face. “I apologise; it is not your fault. I get so angry when I see this kind of treatment towards animals.”

He nodded, wishing she would stand more upright and stop leaning on his desk. He had a clear view of her enticing cleavage, and it was making him _very_ uncomfortable as his body responded. Ignoring his growing erection, he fidgeted in his chair. “If you feel you have the patience to work with him, then please feel free to do so,” he told her. “He is an exceptionally beautiful animal, and I would not like to see him live a life of misery.”

“He will not,” she assured him, removing her fists from the desk and standing more upright.

He breathed a sigh of relief. “I will see to it that the stable-hands stay away from him.”

“Thankyou,” she said. “If I am permitted, I would like to bathe and settle for the night.”

“Of course,” he said. “You will not join me for dinner?”

She shook her head. “I am exhausted. I think a bath and sleep is the best thing for me right now.”

He frowned. “Are you having any problems from your injury?” he asked.

“Just a slight burning pain now and then,” she replied. “Nothing to be concerned about. It has healed well.”

“Very well,” he said. “I shall no doubt see you at some point tomorrow. Sleep well.”

She bowed, and left the study.

His eyes followed her to the door, and he took a deep breath as it closed behind her. Pointedly ignoring the throbbing between his legs, he went back to the documentation which lay spread out on the desk.

*****

_“I thought I would find you here,” a velvet voice said, making her turn around._

_She smiled. “My work is never done,” she replied, lifting a bale of hay down and dropping it on the floor. “That horse requires more care than a child.”_

_“Allow me,” he said, stepping towards her and shifting another bale. “This is too heavy for you.”_

_“I can manage,” she replied with a grin, dragging another one towards her._

_Strong arms reached round on either side of her, halting her progress. Warm breath fanned over the back of her neck, and she became aware of the solid body pressed against hers._

_Closing her eyes, she lowered her head as soft, warm lips touched her flesh, her skin burning from the gentle contact._

_“You should not over-work yourself,” he murmered, slowly turning her to face him. His ice blue eyes stared into her soul, and she couldn’t look away. His hand lifted and caressed her cheek, as his mouth descended on hers._

_She leaned her head up to accept his kiss, her breath leaving her at the sensual touch. His mouth moved against hers, his tongue tracing her lower lip as he silently begged for entry. Her lips parted, granting him access, and he moaned as his tongue swept inside. Her arms lifted to his shoulders, her body pressing closer._

_The bales of hay pressed against her back as he pushed her up against them, his kiss changing. Hunger and passion broke through, as his urgency and lust passed through into her. She gripped handfuls of his hair as his hands trailed down her thighs, lifting one leg up around his waist as he ground against her. She moaned as he kissed her neck, biting and licking just below her ear._

_“I want you…here…now,” he panted, his hips rocking hard against her._

_“Yes,” she whispered, trailing her hands down to the collar of his tunic and parting the expensive fabric. Her fingers caressed the warm flesh of his neck as he ravaged her mouth again, desperate to feel more. She cried out as she felt his hand slide up under her skirts, a whisper of a touch against her throbbing core. Her heartbeat accelerated even more as he pushed her underwear aside, stroking her and sliding a finger into her waiting entrance._

She shot up in bed with a gasp, blinking and shaking her head to clear it. Where had _that_ come from?? Erotic dreams about the elf King, who wasn’t the slightest bit interested in her?

She was going mad, she decided. She was spending too much time around him. And she had eaten too much cheese before her bath earlier on. Throwing herself back down against the pillows with a grunt, she tried to ignore the ache between her legs as she rolled over and squeezed her eyes closed, determined to go back to sleep.

Hopefully a dreamless sleep.

Along at the far end of the corridor, Thranduil lay wide awake, staring up at the roof of his chambers in the darkness. Katalia was on his mind, and refused to leave. Every time she walked past him, he imagined her pinned beneath him, crying out in passion. Her laugh sent bursts of energy through his blood, and the sway of her hips as she moved made him harder than the damned mountain she had come from.

The memory of her breasts straining against her tunic in his study came back to his mind, and he sighed in frustration, feeling the twitching signalling the beginning of an erection. She had obviously been unaware of what she had shown him, but what a view. He ached to touch the soft mounds of flesh, to roll her nipples between his fingers, to soothe them with his tongue. His imagination fired an image of her sprawled out across his bed, her head thrown back in abandonment, her hair spread out on the pillow as he teased and licked her breasts.

_Damn!_

His erection was now completely hard, throbbing for release. Without thinking, his hand slid down his torso and wrapped around it, a hiss of pleasure sounding in the dark as he slowly worked up and down the length. His thighs parted as he relaxed, closing his eyes and leaning back against the soft pillow. Imagining her kneeling between his legs as her hand slid up and down him, he sighed. He could almost feel her long hair trailing along his inner thighs, could almost feel her wet tongue as she swept it over the head. His head rolled to one side as his breathing increased, the pleasure intensifying as his hand gripped tighter and moved faster. He kicked the blankets off his body, allowing the cool air to sweep over his heated flesh.

Bucking slightly into his hand, he imagined parting her legs and licking her until she screamed his name. The image of her in the throes of orgasm was enough to make him explode, hot jets of fluid spurting onto his abdomen.

He panted hard in the silence; this woman had buried herself under his skin, and there was nothing he could do about it. She had caught his attention the moment he laid eyes on her, and the more he tried to ignore his attraction to her, the more difficult it became.

Heaving a heartfelt sigh, he sat up and swung his legs out of the bed, rising and crossing through to his personal bathing area to wash away the evidence of what he had done. The last thing he wanted was for his housekeepers gossiping about what he got up to in the depths of the night.


	6. Chapter 6

** CHAPTER SIX **

****

Thranduil arrived at breakfast later than usual the following morning, looking like he hadn’t slept a wink all night. Katalia was seated in her usual spot drinking her tea, and not looking much better.

“Did you sleep well?” he inquired, seating himself adjacent to her.

“A little restless,” she admitted. “You?”

He shrugged. “There must have been something in the air last night,” he replied. “I also could not settle.”

Ice blue eyes met hers briefly, then darted away again.

“I was speaking with Legolas and Tauriel earlier,” she said, setting her cup down. “They were telling me about the orcs that have been seen around the borders.”

“Yes.” His expression hardened.

A servant appeared with food for him, set it before him then vanished.

“I should be surprised, yet somehow I am not,” she murmered.

“Word has obviously reached the wrong ears that Oakenshield is looking for you,” he commented. “The orcs will do anything for a hefty payout.”

“Thorin hates the orcs though,” she said with a frown. “I cannot see that he would deal with them.”

“There is no saying what he would do in his current state of madness,” he replied. “If they think they can claim either you or the gems, they will attempt to do so in order for payment. Who the payment comes from is of no importance. They only look to gain.”

She went quiet.

“What troubles you?” he asked, observing her for a few minutes.

“I am thinking that maybe it would be best if I went to the Shire,” she said softly. Her eyes met his, and his heart missed a beat. “My presence here carries a threat.”

“A threat which I will deal with,” he answered. “I have told you – I will protect you here. I cannot do so if you are outwith my territory.”

She chewed her lower lip. “I do not think it should be your responsibility to protect me,” she said. “I knew what I was doing when I took the gems.”

He blinked, distracted as she’d bit her lip, imagining her doing it as he pushed into her. “I gladly take on the responsibility,” he said determinedly with a frown as he concentrated on the food in front of him. “Do not concern yourself with such things.”

“If I feel it is becoming too dangerous for those here, I will leave,” she said.

He glared at her. “You are aware that nobody leaves this kingdom without my permission?”

She grinned. “Are you saying you would keep me prisoner?”

“Maybe not in a dungeon, but yes, for your own protection,” he said. “Katalia, if they capture you, they will torture and kill you at best. If Oakenshield captures you, he also will make you suffer horrendously before taking your life. I will not stand by and allow that.”

“Legolas seems to think I should brush up on my archery,” she said. “Although I do not favour the bow and arrow; I am much more at home with a sword.”

“I understand that,” he nodded. “I am accomplished at both skills, however I too prefer a sword. It just depends on which weapon you are more settled with.”

“Definitely a sword,” she said. “No doubt about it.” She absent-mindedly reached behind her and rubbed her fist against the wound she had from Thorin’s arrow.

Thranduil frowned. “I thought you said the wound had healed,” he said.

“It has,” she replied. “Sometimes it likes to remind me that I took an arrow, just in case I forget.” She smiled, lifting her cup again.

“Maybe you should see one of my healers,” he said. “It obviously requires more care.”

“I might consider seeing the healer who worked on me at the time,” she conceded. “Who was it?”

His eyes met hers. “I healed you,” he told her.

Her heart missed a beat. “ _You_ did?”

“Yes. I had another healer helping me, but he was becoming tired too quickly, so I sent him away.”

She frowned. “How long were you working with me?”

He shrugged. “I did not keep track of the time.”

“It takes a long time and a _lot_ of energy for a healer to tire to the point he is sent away,” she commented suspiciously.

He rolled his eyes. “Around two hours.”

Her jaw dropped. “Two hours?” she exclaimed. “That was dangerous, Thranduil. An elf should not practice continually for that amount of time without resting in between.”

Again, he shrugged. “You are alive, are you not?” he smirked.

She shook her head. “Again, I find myself thanking you,” she said.

“Again, I find myself telling you that there is no need,” he responded. “Will you be spending time with the horse again today?”

She nodded. “After I finish with the children, yes. I want to allocate a period of time each day to be with him, so he can get to know me and trust me. I have to gain his trust before I can make any progress with him.”

“Just be careful around him,” he warned. “If I think he is too much to handle, or if he turns on you, I will put an end to him.”

“He will not,” she assured him. “Put your trust in me.”

_It is not my trust I want to put in you,_ he thought. _I want to put myself in you. As deep inside you as I can go._

*****

The weeks passed.

Katalia’s lessons with the youngsters in the palace gained momentum, with every child soon mastering numbers and letters. Thranduil often observed her discreetly, admiring her approach to her work. She was confident in her skills, and brought out the best in each child, quickly finding their strong points and their weaknesses. The children flourished in her care, becoming more confident in themselves and learning at a fast rate.

The horse too, showed promise. She had him eating from the palm of her hand, and he had seen her riding him around the courtyard. On his command, all males continued to keep their distance, allowing her to work in solitude to build up a bond with the animal.

Katalia herself was burrowing deeper and deeper into his soul. He longed for her presence when she was busy, and found himself drifting off several times throughout his days wondering where she was or what she was doing. He looked forwards to their meals together, enjoying the conversation and the pleasure of her company. Unlike the elleths who worked and resided in his kingdom, she didn’t throw herself at him or try to entice him in any way.

She didn’t have to.

He was besotted with her.

His nights were long and lonely, and he’d given up counting how many times he awoke in the darkness with an erection that was screaming out to be buried deep inside her. Not one to dream often, he had started having vivid dreams of her; dreams of her naked, dreams of her kissing him, dreams of the two of them pleasuring one another. Each morning he presented himself for breakfast looking tired and weary.

Legolas had asked him several times if he had something on his mind, and each time he had denied it and waved him away impatiently. Unknown to him, his son had always backed off with a secretive smile; he was wiser than his father gave him credit for.

Katalia surprised him by announcing one day that she had introduced the horse to one of the stable-hands, and it had gone surprisingly well. She attributed it to the fact that she hadn’t left the animal’s side, maintaining contact with him at all times.

Thranduil was surprised, but not overly so. He knew it would only be a matter of time before she began bringing outside life into the horse’s attention span. He had long ago ceased to be surprised at different things she said, different suggestions she came up with; her insight and curious thirst for knowledge served her well.

He stood at the edge of the courtyard, watching her as she walked with the horse and the stable-hand. His captain chattered away at his side, but he didn’t hear a single word the man was saying.

Katalia wore a pair of tight black trousers, tucked as usual into her knee-high boots, and a loose, flowing light blue top. The neckline scooped to reveal the start of her cleavage, while the trousers hugged her ass and thighs. Strong, confident strides carried her wherever she wanted to go, her long black hair swirling around her as she led the horse. She swung herself up onto the large animal’s back in a swift, agile motion, gripping him with her knees as she turned him and began to guide him around in the opposite direction.

Thranduil’s mouth went dry as he watched her strong thighs control the horse, imagining what they would feel like clenched around him.

“My Lord…what do you think?” the captain said, intruding on his thoughts.

He turned to him, flustered. “Let me think it over,” he replied, hoping it was the right response. His gaze went back to Katalia.

After a few minutes, she dismounted, landing neatly on her feet and handing the reins over to the stable-hand, before crossing into the stable for something.

Thranduil turned to go back into the palace.

The horse suddenly went wild, rearing up on his hind legs and almost screaming. The elf holding him panicked and dropped the reins, allowing the animal to bolt.  Katalia flew out of the stable as the horse took off through the gates, a look of horror and distress on her face. Throwing a saddle to the ground, she took off after him, sprinting in the direction he’d gone. Thranduil watched in shock as she disappeared in a blur, her long hair trailing out behind her as she moved at speed.

Within seconds of her vanishing from his sight, he heard her scream; a shrill, agonising scream that tore through him. Roars and snarls sounded simultaneously, and he jerked out of his trance-like state, grabbing the reins of a nearby horse and throwing himself up onto its back. He charged through the gate, several of his guards scrambling to follow him.

His heart almost stopped at the sight which greeted him as he entered the woods.

Katalia was surrounded by orcs.

She had managed to disarm one and was battling with an orc sword, but she was outnumbered and they were closing in on her. Whirling around, she took down two with a single swipe of the blade, slicing through two throats as she moved.

Thranduil galloped towards her, unsheathing his sword and decapitating the first orc he came close to. Sliding from his horse, he whipped out his other weapon and attacked. His temper was fuelled with fire; nothing was going to harm her. Limbs separated from bodies, heads rolled free as he lashed out in uncontrolled fury.

Katalia acquired another sword and was better equipped to defend herself, but the more orcs they killed, the more crashed out of the trees. The guards who had managed to catch up with them joined in, and they all battled hard against the enemy.

Thranduil’s head whipped round as she screamed, to see a deep slash appear on her thigh as an orc swiped his blade at her. She dropped one of her swords, her hand automatically going to press against the wound. The beast lashed out with his elbow, catching her on her temple and she dropped to the grass unconscious.

He turned from his own battle and hurried towards her, as the orc grabbed her arm and started dragging her away through the undergrowth. Leaping onto its back, he drove his sword deep in between the shoulders, a feeling of sick satisfaction flowing over him as his blade protruded from the orc’s chest.

It crashed forwards onto the ground, and he rolled off and jumped to his feet. Gathering Katalia in his arms, he swung back round to his guards, who were rapidly hacking their way to victory. He hurried back towards the palace, the unconscious elf limp in his arms. The guards at the gate hastily moved aside to let him pass, their heads bowed low.

Thranduil was fuming.

*****

A few hours had passed.

Katalia was sitting on her bed, nursing a splitting headache and a throbbing leg. The healer who had taken care of her had cleaned, stitched and bandaged her leg, advising her to try and keep her weight off it for the next few days. The headache would ease itself, but she gave her some rancid-tasting herbal concoction to take the edge off it.

After everything that had happened, she was tired and sore.

The horse had been brought back to the palace, kicking off and going crazy because she wasn’t there to settle him, and the stable-hands were steering clear.

She sighed, turning the page of her book.

She jumped in terror as the door to her chambers flew open.

Thranduil stood in the doorway, his eyes furious.

She blinked, unsure of how to react.

He strode into the room, slamming the door so hard, the whole palace must have heard it. “What in the name of all that is sacred were you doing?” he roared.

She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Going after an animal that needs help,” she said.

“Are you out of your mind?” he demanded. Waves of anger practically rolled off him into the room. “Why did you go after the stupid thing?!”

She slid off the end of the bed, standing before him. “I had to bring him back,” she explained.

He glared at her, his chest heaving as he breathed. “You could have died out there!” he shouted. “Those blasted orcs were just _waiting_ for an opportunity to grab you! How could you have been so careless?!”

She shied away slightly as he continued to yell and scream at her.

“The stupid horse would have come back himself!” he ranted.

“The stable-hand who had him was terrified of you, of what you would do to him!” she shouted back. “It was not his fault the horse bolted, but he was petrified!”

“I do not care about one stable-hand!” he yelled, leaning down so he was right in front of her. “I could not care less about one useless employee! My concern lies with your well-being! Your safety!”

“Maybe you should care more about those who serve you!” she yelled. “They do everything they can to keep you happy, but it is never enough!”

“Do not speak to me on how to run my kingdom!” he bellowed, his eyes blazing. “You know _nothing_ of how I work, _nothing_ of how I feel! _Nothing_ of how terrified I was when I saw the situation you were in! I thought you were going to die!”

She blinked, taken aback at the strength of his anger.

Within a heartbeat, he lunged towards her, trapping her against the wall, his mouth crashing down onto hers. His hands slid down her body, moulding her curves against him, his mouth demanding a response.

She gave it.

Hunger flowed between them in an intense wave that threatened to overpower both of them, the lust exploding as he ravaged her mouth. His tongue swept inside, staking his territory as his hands were everywhere. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs as she returned his kiss with a passion that matched his. Wrapping her arms up around his neck, she couldn’t have been any tighter against him, but she pushed harder against his solid body anyway. Her legs felt weak under her as he dragged his mouth from hers and sank his teeth into the soft flesh of her neck.

A moan of arousal left her at the sharp bite, the pain only adding to her pleasure. One of his hands lifted her knee and brought it up around his hip and he pushed his arousal into the space he had created. His other hand slid up her body and captured her left breast, squeezing and caressing it through the fabric of her top. She leaned her head back and whimpered, her breath coming in short, hard gasps.

The world seemed to come to a sudden stop as he suddenly yanked himself away from her, breaking all contact. Breathing hard, his head was low as he stood for a few seconds, then he turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door with enough force to wake the dead.


	7. Chapter 7

** CHAPTER SEVEN **

****

Thranduil strode through the palace, guards and servants ducking for cover as he swept past. His temper was in full force, and all those around could feel it. Barging into the council meeting room, he demanded his captains be brought before him.

He wanted answers.

He wanted to know how a legion of filthy orcs had come so close to his palace in the first place, and nobody had spotted them. The scouts had missed them, the patrols had missed them, and the guards at the gates had missed them.

Katalia had been wounded, and he was furious beyond reasoning as a result. His company’s negligence had been paid for with her blood, and this did not sit well with him.

It didn’t bode too well for his captains’ ears either.

He roared and shouted at them, demanding answers that none of them had, which made him angrier. Two captains were thrown into the dungeons for attempting to speak over him, and after that nobody dared utter a word. The entire work force heard him bellowing, and wisely stayed clear.

Legolas glanced at Tauriel, his eyebrows lifted.

His father _never_ showed his temper with such fire. He was always cold and calculating, arrogant in his delivery of punishment, and that alone drove fear into the hearts of those who crossed him. To have him explode in such a manner was entirely different; nobody knew how to react or how to deal with him.

“I have never seen the King like this,” Tauriel whispered, her eyes wide as his roars echoed down the hallway.

“Nor I,” Legolas replied. “And I can only think of one reason for him to be like this.”

She frowned in question.

“Katalia,” he replied with a grin. “I think my father cares more for her than he is admitting.”

“Do you think so?” she gasped. “Katalia?”

He nodded, motioning with his head for them to leave their position outside the meeting room doors before he burst through them and caught them eavesdropping. “I certainly think so. He has been different these last few months Tauriel; have you not seen it?”

“I have seen a different side of him,” she admitted. “But I did not give it much consideration.”

“I have,” he grinned. “I think it is safe to say my father has found love again.”

She stopped, a huge smile on her face. “Do you really think so?”

He nodded. “Yes. In all seriousness, yes, I do. Never in all my years have I seen his eyes change when an elleth comes into the same room, or heard him praise one the way he does with her. This has nothing to do with her returning the gems…I feel that it is more to do with _her.”_

“Do you think she feels anything towards him?” she asked, clasping her hands at her back as they walked.

“Who can say?” he murmered. “I know she answers him back, and she challenges him if she does not agree with what he has said. But I do not know where her heart lies. His though, I am sure lies with her.”

Tauriel smiled. “This may be the beginning of something beautiful,” she murmered.

“Or the end of life as we know it if it goes wrong,” he said dryly.

*****

Four days passed.

Thranduil remained in a sullen mood, refusing to attend meetings and avoiding direct contact with most of the servants. Still angry at how close he had come to losing Katalia, he was equally as upset at how he had acted; screaming at her and then kissing her the way he had. Too ashamed to face her and to admit his true feelings, he stayed out of her way.

She too hid away.

She knew she had upset Thranduil by going after the horse, but the animal meant a lot to her and she only wanted to see his safe return. The King’s anger was maybe justified, but the sheer intensity of his rage had taken her by surprise, as had the sheer intensity of what had happened afterwards.

Her body tingled and ached as she remembered; the feeling of being crushed between him and the wall as he’d kissed her with more passion than anything she’d ever felt from another living being, the feeling of helplessness as his hands had wandered over her body. The lust that had surged through her at his touch, the yearning to feel his naked flesh against hers.

Tears burned her eyes as she gazed out of the window, the beautiful view before her unnoticed. Her heart and soul ached.

She missed him.

He hadn’t come near her in four days. The last she had seen of him was when he had stormed out of her chambers in a fit of temper.

She hadn’t returned the white gems because of him, she had done it because as a Sindar elf herself, she knew the importance of the heirlooms. Although she had despised his attitude at first, her body had seemed to glow in acknowledgement of the perfect male she had faced that night in the tent. She had ignored the rapid beating of her heart, the fluttering within her as he had closed the distance between them, his sharp tongue accusing her of things she would never have dreamt of.

It had done her no good.

The longer she resided in the palace, the deeper the attraction seemed to go. He filled her thoughts, her heart, and her soul. She longed to be in his presence, and felt hollow when she wasn’t.

And with four days of silence, she came to a decision.

It was time to leave.

*****

Thranduil trudged along the hallways, alone. His thoughts were melancholic, his mood low. Clasping his hands behind his back, his steps were slow as he walked with his head down, lost in thought. He had to see Katalia; he was lost without her.

He left the palace and found himself going towards the stables, where he could see the massive horse she had worked so hard with to tame at his request. The animal had worked his way into her heart, and for an instant he was ridiculously jealous. Maybe if he had hooves or paws he would have had the chance of winning her affections, but he didn’t.

Stopping just inside the stable door, he silently took a deep breath, listening to Katalia’s soft words.

She hadn’t seen him approach, and stood with her arms around the animal’s neck, the horse resting his nose on her shoulder almost in a gesture of comfort.

“Who is going to look after you?” she asked softly. “I cannot take you with me, and I worry what will happen to you if I am not here to take care of you. I will miss you so much.”

The horse snorted softly in response.

“I do not want to leave you,” she said, a catch to her voice. “I hope and pray that he takes care of you for me.”

“Why would you miss him?” he asked, his tone low.

She stiffened, but didn’t turn around to face him. “I am leaving,” she replied, after a long silence.

“Where will you go?” Hurt speared through him, sharper than any arrow.

“The Shire,” she said. “I made a promise to Bilbo a long time past that I would go and see him.”

He breathed deeply. “You will return?”

“No,” she answered. “I will not.”

“I cannot protect you in the Shire,” he said quietly.

“I do not want your protection,” she said. _I want your love._

“You need my protection,” he said, with a tone of sadness to his voice.

“I do not need your protection,” she replied. _I need you._

He inhaled deeply, letting his breath out on a soft sigh. “Why do you feel you need to leave?”

She swallowed, finally turning to face him. “Because there is nothing here for me,” she said. Unshed tears burned her eyes. “I have nothing.”

He stepped towards her, raw emotion on his face, and sank to his knees on the floor. “You have a King on his knees,” he whispered, gazing up at her. “A King begging you to stay. A King begging you to let him love you.” Sadness filled his ice blue eyes, their depths pleading with her.

Her heart hammered wildly as she swallowed again. She didn’t trust her ears.

“I love you, Katalia. I need you,” he whispered. “Please do not leave. Stay with me.”

The tears burning her eyes threatened to spill over, and she blinked rapidly in an effort to disperse them. Her body trembled as she fought for control.

Thranduil stood slowly, taking her cold hands in one of his. The other he lifted and held tenderly against her cheek. “I love you,” he repeated, his voice touching her with the softness of a feather. “I think I always have.”

She gazed up at him, a single tear finally escaping, and he gently swept it away with his thumb. Her eyes drifted closed as he lowered his head, his mouth soft and warm against hers. She responded, deepening the kiss as she wound her arms up around him, pulling him against her as he slid his arms around her back. The stables spun around her as he kissed her, the horse forgotten. Warmth seeped from his body into hers, his strength merging into her as he held her.

Pulling back a hair’s breadth, he nuzzled his nose against her cheek, breathing in her scent. “I need you, Katalia,” he murmered softly. “Please stay, give me the chance to prove how precious you are to me. Give me the chance to put right what went wrong between us.”

Turning her head slightly as she searched for his mouth, a sigh of pleasure left her as she kissed him, never wanting to leave the comfort of his arms. She felt as though her head was spinning as the feeling of euphoria washed over her.

“I love you too,” she whispered, her lips brushing his as she spoke. “If you want me to stay, I will.”

He pulled back slightly, framing her face with both hands. “Of course I want you to stay,” he said brokenly. “I never want you to go. Ever. I want you here with me, at my side, not traipsing around all over Middle Earth seeking out some miniature creature who never figured out how to grow.”

She laughed at his words, an occasional tear still managing to escape, and he grinned, kissing her again.

His arms crossed tightly at her back as he broke the kiss and buried his head against her neck, closing his eyes in a private moment as he cherished the feel of her in his arms. Something instinctive made him glance up, and he saw Legolas and Tauriel on the other side of the courtyard, watching them.

Tauriel was smiling like the cat who stole the cream, and Legolas grinned as he slowly nodded, and the pair walked away out of his line of vision.

*****

The fire crackled and sparked as the flames licked the pile of logs. A relaxing warmth seeped from it as the dancing flames cast shadows around the room.

Thranduil sat sideways on the couch, a glass of wine in one hand, and the other holding Katalia’s  as she sat beside him, her body turned towards his. A peaceful silence had settled over them.

“I am sorry for the way I have treated you,” he said softly, tearing his gaze away from the fireplace. “And for making you feel like you wanted to leave.”

She sipped her wine. “I never wanted to leave,” she told him. “But I felt I had no choice. I could not remain here if you shut me out.”

His eyes lowered. “Again, I apologise,” he said. He sighed deeply, his fingers toying with hers. “I feel I have so much to say sorry for, so much to explain.”

“You do not,” she assured him.

“But I have,” he insisted, lifting sad eyes to hers. “I overacted because you were in danger…I was so worried and terrified that you would come to harm. My anger was misplaced and should not have been directed towards yourself. Then I grabbed you and practically forced myself on you, and I was so ashamed of my actions.”

She set her wine down and shifted, moving a little bit closer to him, and cupping her hand on his cheek. “You did not force yourself on me,” she told him. “Did you see me fighting you off, or rejecting you? No, because I did not. I welcomed what happened, I loved what happened. I was shocked because I had no idea you were even thinking of me like that, but I cannot describe the pleasure I felt.”

He gazed into her eyes, trying to work out if she was being honest with him or solely trying to save his feelings. She waited, watching the uncertainty lurking in the depths of his. “Do not make excuses for my actions,” he murmered eventually.

She smiled. “I am not. I am telling you that every time I think of that unrestrained passion between us, it makes my heart beat faster, it makes my legs go weak, and it turns my stomach upside down.”

He leaned towards her, brushing his mouth over hers. “I do not deserve a chance with you after the way I have acted towards you,” he whispered.

“Yes you do, because I love you and I want to be with you,” she replied. She settled back and picked up her wine, taking a sip.

“I had a few choice words with my captains,” he said, turning his gaze back to the fire.

“I know. I heard,” she said with a smirk. “I think the entire kingdom heard you.”

He scowled. “They deserved every word of it,” he grunted. “Those orcs should have been seen long before they entered the forest, and should never have been so close to the gates.”

“And you saved my life yet again,” she said softly. “Thankyou.”

“I will always be there when you need me,” he told her, looking back at her. “Always. Not just when you need me. I would walk through the depths of the hell that is Dol Guldur for you.”

“Well I have no intention of ever going there, so that will be unnecessary,” she replied. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

They settled into a comfortable silence, broken only when a servant knocked the door to inform them that dinner had been served.

“Will you do me the honour of accompanying me for our evening meal, my Lady?” Thranduil asked with a grin as he stood up from the couch and extended his arm.

“Yes, I believe I shall, my King,” she replied, smiling as she took his arm. “I would be honoured.”

He tipped her chin up and softly kissed her, a slow, drawn-out kiss that held the promise of pleasures to come. “Then let us eat,” he said, and led her from the room.


	8. Chapter 8

** CHAPTER EIGHT **

****

Dinner lasted for almost two hours.

The couple talked and talked, often forgetting the food that was in front of them, before going back to eating then stopping to talk again. Thranduil held Katalia’s hand at every opportunity, paying no mind to the servants and guards who came and went.

Legolas and Tauriel tactfully stayed away, and for this Thranduil was internally grateful. He wanted time with Katalia, just precious time alone with her without the nonsense his son would no doubt contribute to the conversation.

By the time their meal was over, darkness had fallen and most of the staff had retired for the night. The two of them slowly walked along the hallways towards her chambers, where Thranduil stopped and turned to her.

Holding both her hands in his, he stared down at them for a moment, marvelling at how feminine they were in his large ones. “I have enjoyed our time together today,” he said softly, lifting his eyes to hers.

“As I have also,” she replied with a smile. Standing up on her toes, she pressed her lips to his, murmering in pleasure at the warm caress as he kissed her.

“Have a pleasant night, my love,” he whispered, softly kissing her cheek.

“You too,” she replied.

He lifted a hand over his shoulder, disappearing down the corridor towards his own chambers.

Sighing in contentment, she let herself into her room, heading straight for a hot bath. Once she had freshened up and changed into a short nighty, she wrapped a robe around herself and was crossing towards her bed when her door knocked.

Thranduil stood in the doorway, smiling as she opened it.

“I just wanted to make sure you have everything you need,” he said, seeming a little unsure of himself.

Katalia’s mind heard the words he wasn’t saying. “Everything is fine,” she replied. “I’ve had a bath, and I think I have everything I need.”

“Good,” he decided, nodding. “Just let me know if you need anything?”

She grinned. “I promise, I will,” she said.

“Goodnight then,” he said softly, leaning towards her and giving her a slow, tender kiss. “I shall see you at breakfast. I love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispered as he pulled back.

He turned away, and she frowned slightly as his head was lowered as he walked away again.

Closing the door, she took a deep breath. She knew what he wanted; the same as what she wanted. But she didn’t have the confidence to make the first move. Judging by Thranduil’s actions, neither did he.

Curling up on the soft couch in her room, she sat reading for a while, trying to immerse herself in the words on the pages. Nothing seemed to go into her brain and remain there, fleeting off into the night and leaving her feeling like she was wasting her time even attempting to read.

Half an hour later, she tossed the book aside and padded from her chambers. She was restless, lonely, and needed Thranduil.

The dark corridor seemed colder than usual, given the time of year and the normal warmth of the season. Her bare feet made no noise as she wandered along, the lit torches casting eerie shadows on the high walls.

Her heart missed a beat as Thranduil appeared a few feet in front of her, stopping and gazing at her in surprise.

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

“Yes…I could not sleep,” she said.

“I could not sleep myself,” he replied. He swallowed.

She gazed at him, his long hair sweeping over his shoulders and down the front of the robe he wore. Slowly and hesitantly, she took a step towards him, and he moved towards her.

“I…I…uhm…” he started, trailing off. He frowned. “I do not wish this night to end,” he finally said, his voice low.

She lifted a hand and placed it against his cheek, and he turned his head and pressed a kiss to the centre of her palm. “I do not want it to end either, my love,” she said.

Passion blazed in his eyes as he gazed at her, his breathing deep and unsteady. “I do not want to push you into doing anything you are not comfortable with,” he whispered. “I do not want you to feel rushed, or obligated.”

She shook her head, stepping closer still until her body was almost touching his. Gazing up at him, she smiled. “Thranduil, I love you,” she said softly. “And what I am feeling is natural when two people love each other. I do not feel rushed.”

He was sure she could hear his heart thumping in his chest as he absorbed her words, understanding her meaning. “I need you,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I am aching for you.”

She lifted her mouth to his, and he crushed her lips with his own in a sudden move that took her breath away.

Gone was the insecure elf who lacked confidence around her; the dominant, arrogant King who made her weak with need had taken his place. His mouth moved against hers with lust and determination as he devoured her, his arms holding her tightly against him. Every fibre of her being blazed to life in full awareness of his solid muscles against her soft curves, his heart hammering next to hers, his desperation blatantly clear in his urgent kiss.

Forcing himself to tear his mouth from hers, he panted as he gazed down into her eyes. “I think we should probably take this somewhere more private, more comfortable,” he said.

She nodded. “Your room or mine?” she asked with an impish grin.

“Whichever makes you more comfortable, my love,” he replied, brushing the back of his knuckles down her cheek. “If we go to my room, and you feel uncomfortable, you can walk away with no pressure.”

She frowned. “I will not feel uncomfortable,” she said. “I want this. I want you. All of you.”

Blue fire blazed in his eyes at her response, and he lowered his hand to twist his fingers through hers. Without saying anything further, he led her along the hallway and opened the door to his chambers. Closing the door, eyes that burned with passion held hers.

She held her other hand up and he took it in his, as she went into his embrace and kissed him again, a slow, deep kiss that had him on fire from his toes up. She trailed her hands up his chest and lightly tugged on the edges of his robe to part the fabric, and rested her palms on the smooth chest she exposed.

A low growl sounded from the back of his throat, and he twisted his head to deepen the kiss. Pushing his tongue into her mouth, she arched against him and opened to him.

“I have spent many sleepless nights dreaming of this,” he whispered raggedly as he pulled back for air. “You have cost me so much rest and sleep, my love.”

Her mouth pressed soft little kisses down his neck, making him close his eyes and lean into her. “You are not alone with losing sleep,” she whispered. “I too have had many restless nights…cold and alone, needing you.” She moved to his throat, dragging her tongue lightly across his Adam’s apple. A deep shudder rippled down his back and he inhaled sharply. His large hands moved along her back, sliding around her waist and pulling on the belt that tied her robe.

“I cannot feel you properly with this on,” he murmered, undoing the knot. “I think it would be best if it came off.”

“Then take it off me,” she smiled against his hot flesh.

“I want to take everything off you,” he replied as the silky fabric slid off her shoulders to pool around her feet. “I want to see all of you…touch all of you…kiss all of you until you cannot take anymore.”

She stepped free of the pile of silk, pulling him with her as her mouth found his again. Hungry hands swept his robe from his shoulders, a gasp leaving her as she came into contact with his bare chest and arms. She ran her hands up and down his arms, marvelling at the smooth, hot flesh under her touch. His muscles tensed and twitched under her exploring fingers, and his breathing became more ragged.

“I want you to touch me everywhere,” he rasped, chasing her mouth. “Tell me what you need, what you like. Tell me what brings you pleasure, so that I can do it to you.”

She hesitated, and he pulled back a little to look down into her eyes.

“I do not know,” she whispered.

His body stiffened. “Are you telling me that you are untouched?” he asked, almost in disbelief.

She nodded. “Yes.”

He continued to stare at her, his ice blue eyes unreadable. Tension radiated from his body.

She took a deep breath. “Maybe it was an unwise decision to have a King as my first lover,” she said, deeply aware of how confident he was in light of her own inexperience.

He frowned, his eyes cold. “I have no intention of being your first lover,” he said.

Her eyes dropped and she took a step backwards. His hand gripped her wrist, halting her movements.

“I intend on being your _only_ lover,” he whispered. Tugging her back against him, he kissed just below her ear, his nose nuzzling the sensitive skin there. “I am a jealous and possessive King,” he continued. “I will not share, I will not allow any other to have you. After tonight, you belong to me, and only to me.”

Her eyes closed as her head tipped back, giving him easier access as he kissed his way down her throat. Clutching his robe in her fists, she murmered softly as his mouth wandered, kissing and biting gently. She loosened her hold on the fabric and pushed it further down his arms. He shrugged free from it and wound his arms around her back as he returned to her mouth.

“I shall find out what brings you pleasure,” he whispered as he backed her slowly towards his bed. “I shall discover what makes your body respond to mine, what excites you, what brings you to orgasm.”

“Just being with you, my love,” she replied, her tone low.

He grinned, easing her nightdress from her shoulders so it slid to the floor. “There is so much more,” he promised. “I will make you feel so cherished, so loved.” His hands slid up her sides as he talked, sweeping circles over her stomach before caressing around to her back, where he trailed his fingertips down her shoulder blades. Her body arched into his of its own accord, her breasts pushing against his chest.

He brushed his lips over hers in a soft whisper of a kiss, before dragging them down her neck again and over her shoulder, pausing to bite the sensitive skin then lick where he had bitten. Her body shuddered at the intimate action, fire burning between her legs as her need for him grew with every touch.

A lusty cry tore itself from her throat as he leaned her back over his arm slightly, his full lips brushing over her erect nipple, and the hardened peak responded. A tightening sensation fluttered deep within her, and he did it again. Her hands gripped his hair as he repeated it over and over, before closing his mouth over it and sucking rhythmically. Her knees would have given way at the sheer pleasure she was feeling if he hadn’t been supporting her.

“So sensitive, so responsive,” he whispered, turning his attention to her other breast.

She was unable to respond as her ability to communicate vanished. Warm hands slowly rubbed her sides as he teased and licked her nipple, before he began to place kisses lower, over her torso and her abdomen.

She realised as he gently parted her knees that she was on her back on the bed; how and when had that happened? His long hair seemed to kiss her skin as it trailed over her, and he settled himself between her spread thighs.

A low rumble reverberated from deep inside him as he touched her core with his tongue in a delicate caress, making her gasp and arch up from the bed. She was pink, wet, and highly aroused, and he had every intention of arousing her to her maximum. His tongue swept around her clitoris which seemed to throb for his touch, as another cry met his ears. He smiled to himself as he settled into a more comfortable position. He was going to thoroughly enjoy this.

Placing his hands on her inner thighs, he licked and kissed her over and over until she was panting and writhing before him. Her legs trembled and her hips lifted in a sensual rhythm as she reacted to his touch and chased completion.

“Just like that baby,” he murmered against her. “Let go and enjoy.”

She gripped the bedsheet below her, her head rolling from one side to the other as she gasped for breath. “That feels so good!” she cried, straining towards him. “Oh my God that feels soooo good!”

He shifted his hands and lifted her legs over his shoulders, and held her open with his thumbs. “It only gets better, my love,” he whispered.

She made a noise halfway between a garbled scream and a cry as he pushed his tongue inside her, savouring the taste of her as her arousal flooded his senses. Her body twisted and thrashed as every single part of her blazed in awareness.

Drawing his tongue back to her clit, he circled it and drew it into his mouth, sucking gently. “Come for me, my love,” he whispered.

She squeezed her eyes closed as bolts of electricity hurtled through her body to centre between her legs, and her hips moved against him without her control. Muscles tensed and twitched throughout her being as he took her higher and higher, then higher still. Her back arched up from the bed and she screamed as she exploded, convulsions tearing through her and rendering her completely helpless.

Thranduil lifted himself over her and kicked his way out of his pyjama bottoms as he kissed her passionately, fighting to hold her still as her orgasm ripped through her. Strong arms tightened around her as she shuddered and thrashed below him, her body in meltdown.

“You should be able to take me a little easier after that,” he whispered softly. “But if it is too painful, tell me.” He positioned his throbbing hardness against her, slowly rubbing the tip against her opening and covering it in her juices. A slight push of his hips nudged inside her slightly, and she sighed in pleasure.

“More baby,” she whimpered, chasing his mouth and demanding his kiss.

With slow, careful precision, he gritted his teeth as he sheathed himself in her, ever aware that her body had never been penetrated before and she was likely to find it painful. Her legs lifted on either side of him, urging him further into the pulsating molten heat. He gasped at the intensity of the pleasure he felt as he pushed further and further until he was fully inside her.

She gazed up at him, a smile on her face, her wrists crossed at the back of his neck.

“How do you feel?” he asked softly, fighting to hold himself still to give her body time to adjust.

“Amazing,” she replied. “Complete. Like everything in life makes sense now.”

He smiled, and lowered his head to kiss her, his hips slowly starting to move. She murmered into his mouth as his tongue swept inside hers, staking his territory and branding her as belonging to him. His slow thrusts gradually increased in pace, each one sending tremors through her sated body as she clung to him. White-hot sparks shot through him as she trailed her hands down his sides and back up again, her knees tightening around his torso and her hips lifting to meet him.

She relaxed into his kiss as he continued to move within her, marvelling at how wonderful it felt to finally have him inside her. The weeks and months of longing and yearning for him had been worth the wait, as he made love to her with tenderness and devotion.

Inwardly, he was battling to keep from throwing caution to the wind and riding her hard and fast. Her hot core clenched around him and tempted him into submitting to his lust and desire, but he fought back with the knowledge that she meant the world to him and he didn’t want to cause her unnecessary pain. The slow rolling of his hips ignited a flame that started to burn over his abdomen and his groin, gaining heat as it spread low on his back.

He twisted his fingers through hers, holding her hands onto the bed on either side of her head. “I need to come,” he whispered raggedly. “I cannot hold it any longer…do you wish for me to pull out?”

She shook her head as she kissed his mouth. “No. Keep going.”

“Forgive me if this causes you pain, my love,” he whispered.

“I will be alright,” she replied with a smile. “I am a big girl.”

He closed his eyes and lowered his head to her neck, sinking his teeth and sucking hard on her flesh as his resolve shattered in the heat of her body. She turned her head slightly and did the same to him, making him groan lustfully against her as she bit his neck. His hips moved faster, his thrusts going deeper, and his body started to tremble in her arms.

“Oh my God I’m coming,” he gasped, tearing his mouth from her. His body stiffened and he jerked hard, spurting hot fluid deep within her. Her arms tightened around him as he shuddered, deep pants and groans leaving his lips as he relaxed in her hold.

Lifting a hand, she slowly trailed her fingers through his hair, pressing tender kisses against his neck and cheek as he breathed hard. “I love you,” she whispered softly.

He lifted his head, gazing down at her with dazed eyes. “I love you too,” he replied. He framed her face with his hands and kissed her; a tender caress of his mouth that spoke of the depth of his feelings and emotions. Her tongue met and danced with his; a passionate and erotic meeting of minds, hearts, and souls.


	9. Chapter 9

** CHAPTER NINE **

****

Thranduil was bored out of his mind.

He sat slouched in his seat, one knee crossed over the other as the Lords and captains argued relentlessly over some trivial nonsense he couldn’t care less about. His mind wandered back to what had happened through the night, the memory of Katalia coming apart in his arms prevalent in his memory. Her skin had felt like silk against his, her mouth sweeter than any honey, her thighs around him in a vice-like grip. Her body had responded to his as though she had been made especially for him to worship and pleasure.

Shaking his head, he shifted position and tried to mask his boredom.

Legolas met his eye and smirked, making him frown at him.

His eyes lifted as the doors to the meeting room opened, revealing Katalia and her small class of children. She closed the door and held her finger to her lips as she led them over to the corner, where they could silently observe the events of the meeting.

Having spoken with him over breakfast that morning, he had given her permission to attend the meeting with the children, educating them on the formalities of the kingdom and how things worked. She wanted to teach them more on social graces, how the nobles should be approached and addressed, and how the King worked as he ruled the realm.

His eyes left her briefly and he focused on the youngsters, their little mouths open in amazement at being inside the meeting chambers among such nobility. Katalia spoke in very low whispers, pointing out different things as they caught her attention, and the children listened intently.

With a determined sigh, he dragged his gaze from her and made a mammoth effort to re-join the debate. Again, Legolas smirked, and he kicked him under the table.

Everybody in the room jumped in fright as the doors flew open, and an angry elleth entered the room.

Thranduil groaned inwardly.

She was the wife of one of the Lords present, and he couldn’t tolerate the woman and her constant complaints and moans.

“I am sorry to intrude, my Lord,” she said, bowing to Thranduil. “But I cannot and will not have my child under the care of this… _whore!”_

Gasps echoed around the room, and he uncrossed his legs, sitting upright in his seat. “What do you speak of?” he demanded.

The elleth marched over to Katalia and her group and grabbed the arm of her child. “It is all round the palace how she spent the night in your bed!” she hissed. “I will not have her corrupting the mind of my child!”

Her husband stuttered as he tried to calm her down, while offering profuse apologies to Thranduil.

“You do not know anything of which you speak,” the King said coldly. “And I will have you apologise to Lady Katalia for your insulting remarks.”

The elleth glared at him. “Then you may see fit to punish me, my Lord,” she said. “For I will not apologise to someone who obviously returned what you wanted in the effort of getting into your bed.”

His face was cold and hard, his eyes like thunder. “You will apologise _now,”_ he repeated.

She stood with her back straight. “I shall not.”

“Then you shall see the inside of the dungeons,” he said coldly.

“My Lord!” her husband objected.

“As will you, should you infuriate me further,” Thranduil snapped at him. “What I do is my own business, as what Lady Katalia does is hers. It concerns no-one here, no-one in this realm.”

“Look at the bite on her neck!” the elleth cried, pointing at Katalia.

Her cheeks burned in shame as all heads turned to her.

“Yes, it matches the bite I have on mine,” Thranduil replied, and the heads swivelled in his direction.

“It is disgusting! What are your intentions?” the woman demanded, trying to drag her child away against his wishes.

Thranduil lifted one eyebrow, and crossed his legs again. “I intend to marry her,” he said, as though it was plainly obvious. “And I do not intend to ask for either your permission, or your blessing.” He tilted his head to the guards standing at the edge of the room. “Take her to the dungeons,” he instructed them.

They moved, taking her by the arms and forcing her out of the room, ignoring her screams of anger and disgust as she hurled insults at Katalia.

The door closed behind them, the child going back to her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

Thranduil looked over at her, a smirk on his mouth. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted.

He had shocked her.

Turning back to the Lords and captains seated around the table, he grinned. “Where were we?”

*****

Katalia paced her chambers, restless and unsettled. The elleth’s remarks had cut deeply, and she was embarrassed at being thrown in the spotlight in such a way. Nobody had spoken to her during the meeting, which came as no surprise; she had been there solely to educate the children. But she was still upset over what had happened.

Thranduil had nodded briefly to her as she had left, his eyes giving her the unspoken promise that he would speak with her when he was free. Her mood had been low as she’d taken the children back to the library, determined to immerse herself in her given task.

Even spending time with the unruly horse hadn’t lightened her thoughts. The animal had seemed to sense her frame of mind and had behaved with her, responding well to her guidance and tuition.

Still she paced.

The door to her chambers opened, and she turned as Thranduil entered the room. He closed the door, never taking his eyes off hers, reading the sadness and uncertainty that lurked in the depths.

“Come here, my love,” he said, holding his arms out.

She went over to him and they closed around her in a tight embrace.

“Do not worry yourself over what was said,” he whispered. “She is a mean, twisted elleth who never has any good to say about anyone. And she is paying for her mistake in insulting you.”

Katalia shook her head against him, breathing deeply. “I was so ashamed,” she said.

“Why?” He gripped her shoulders and set her back from him so he could look at her. “Are you ashamed of me? Are you ashamed of what we did?”

“No,” she replied instantly. “It was just the way she acted, it made me look so cheap. I felt so degraded. She made what we did sound so sordid.”

“She is the one who is sordid,” he told her as he placed his hands on her cheeks. “What we did last night was loving, and beautiful, and precious. Even when we have made love a million times, I shall always hold on to the memory of last night.”

Unshed tears burned her eyes, and he could see the moisture gathering.

“I meant what I said,” he said softly. “I intend to marry you, make you my wife, my Queen. You belong to me as I belong to you, and I want everyone to know it.”

A smile tugged on her lips as a tear overflowed, and he leaned towards her and gently kissed it away.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” she gasped, throwing her arms around his neck. “Yes, I would be honoured to marry you! I love you so much.”

His arms slid back around her waist, holding her tightly as he buried his face in her hair. “You will make me the happiest being alive,” he murmered. “I love you so much, and I need you at my side.”

She sniffed her tears away and kissed his neck. “I never imagined this would happen,” she whispered. She stiffened in his arms, pulling back slightly. “I want you to know something.”

His eyes searched hers.

“I did not bring the gems to you for any reason other than because their true place is with you,” she said.

He shook his head, sighing. “I know this, my love,” he told her. “I never suspected any other reason. I realised when you left my tent that night that your sole purpose lay with doing what was right, and that you did not have any ulterior motives. The more I have got to know you, the more I realise I was right. You acted in a selfless manner to prevent a war and to return the gems to their rightful owner. I will always be grateful for what you did.”

“Thankyou for believing in me, for trusting me,” she said.

“With love comes trust,” he replied. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he smiled down at her. “I saw you out with that menace of a horse earlier.”

“Yes, he behaved well with me today,” she said. “I was quite surprised, to be honest. He walked with me, he did as I told him, and he worked well.”

“I am surprised you did not ride him today,” he remarked. “Every other day you have done so.”

A pink hue tainted her cheeks, and he tipped her chin up with one finger, frowning in question.

“I cannot, not today,” she said.

“Why not?”

She chewed the inside of her lip. “I am sore. Burning.”

His mouth opened in shock. “Oh no…I am sorry, my love,” he gasped. “I did not think…you did not show any signs of discomfort.”

“It’s alright,” she said with a shrug. “Last night was alright, but this morning I felt rather tender.”

“You should have told me,” he said, wrapping her in his arms again with a sigh. “I shall take you to the healers for something to ease it.”

“No!” she cried in mortification, jerking back from him. “I am not going to the healers. It will pass.”

“Then at least soak in a warm bath,” he suggested. “The warm water should help.”

“I might do that after dinner,” she replied.

He frowned again. “Do it now, my love. Do not suffer.” He released her and moved away, heading through to the bathing area to prepare it for her. “I rather wish to join you, so maybe it would be best if you locked the door,” he added over his shoulder.

She hesitated. “I do not know if I can-“

He turned and held up a hand, cutting her off mid-sentence. “I do not mean for sex,” he assured her. “I just wish the closeness of holding you, that is all. Relax. I am not a monster.”

A smile lit up her face. “I did not suggest you were,” she replied, crossing the room and locking the door as he had requested. She twisted her hair up into a loose knot on top of her head to keep it out of the water.

“Come,” he said, holding his hand out towards her. She took it, and he carefully undressed her, then helped her into the tub. She let out a hiss of discomfort as she lowered herself, the burning sensation intensifying.

“It will ease, I promise,” he told her, easing himself in behind her. He pulled her back to lean against his chest, sliding his arms around her to cross over her stomach. “Open your legs a little.”

“What?” she gasped and felt the silent laughter ripple through his chest into her back.

“I do not mean in a perverted manner,” he said. “Open your legs and allow the water freedom to travel around you.”

“Oh.” She complied.

“Yes… _oh_ indeed,” he smirked. His thumbs rubbed gentle circles on her abdomen as she relaxed, closing her eyes as the fragrant aromas from the pool filled her senses, and the strength of the warrior at her back comforting and reassuring.

“Do you not have things you should be attending to?” she asked lazily.

“Probably,” he replied. “But they can wait. Being here with you is more important to me right now. That is the benefit of being a King, I suppose.”

She chuckled. “Playing around on company time?” she teased.

“Not at all. I deserve a break like anyone else, and this is how I choose to spend it.”

She smiled as she placed her hands on his arms, her entire body melting into a peaceful state.

Thranduil smiled and placed a soft kiss to her temple as he realised after a few minutes that she’d fallen asleep.

*****

“Lady Katalia is upset,” Thranduil announced, turning from pacing back and forth. “If she is upset, I am also.”

The Lord before him swallowed nervously. “My Lord, I cannot go against my wife,” he said.

Thranduil’s eyebrows came down in a scowl. “Who do you fear more?” he demanded. “The child has been taken from the class. It is no wonder she is upset.”

The man bowed in shame. “I have to live with her, my Lord,” he said quietly. “She will make my life a misery if I return my son to his schooling.”

“You mean even more of a misery than it already is?” the King sneered. He waved a hand impatiently. “Get out of my sight. Come back when you have developed a backbone.” He turned his back, stopping any further discussion.

The Lord left the room, and Thranduil sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Katalia was indeed upset; she had noticed straight away that the child in question hadn’t been present in her class that morning.

The door opened again and Legolas entered.

“Father,” he greeted, bowing in respect.

“What news do you bring, my son?” Thranduil asked.

“The border patrol have sent a message,” he replied, handing over a folded sheet of parchment. His father frowned as he opened it and read the messy scrawl.

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head. “Can this day worsen in any way?” he muttered. “Oakenshield is requesting a meeting. No doubt he still lusts after the white gems. Or Lady Katalia’s blood. He shall have neither, meeting or no meeting.”

“What do you plan to do?” Legolas asked.

Thranduil pursed his mouth, contemplating his options. “Bring the greedy dwarf to me. I shall meet with him on my own terms. Have him here by sunrise tomorrow.”

His son nodded and bowed again. “As you wish,” he said, and left the room.

Left alone once more, Thranduil turned to the window, casting his gaze out across Mirkwood forest. The dwarf would indeed leave empty-handed, and with his tail between his legs.


	10. Chapter 10

** CHAPTER TEN **

****

Katalia laughed as she lifted a tray of pies from the oven and slid them onto the worktop. “I do not think that was the appropriate response,” she said.

“I completely agree, my Lady,” the cook replied. “I think the poor ellon’s ears were ringing for weeks afterwards due to his insolence and carelessness.”

She wiped her hands on her apron and took it off. “I am going to see if the King will accompany me into the woods with the horse,” she said. “I shall see you later this evening.”

The cook bowed. “Thankyou, my Lady,” he answered.

She climbed the stone steps leading upwards, coming out into the wide corridor that branched off in several directions. Having been in Mirkwood for some months, she was confident in navigating her way around, and no longer relied on asking passing guards or servants for directions.

The sound of angry yelling drew her attention and her head turned towards the racket. The meeting room doors were slightly open, allowing an angry tirade of insults to flow out into the hallway.

Curious, she went over to the doorway, peering through the gap.

Thranduil stood proud and tall, his hands clasped behind his back.

Her mouth opened in shock as she spotted Thorin, his face angry and red. The dwarf looked unkempt and bedraggled in the almost serene presence of Thranduil.

“You have taken a traitor into your midst!” Thorin shouted. “She will turn on you the same as she turned on me!”

“I sincerely doubt it,” Thranduil replied smoothly, not batting an eyelid. “She merely returned what was rightfully mine, which was an act born from her own heritage. Do not take such things personally.”

“Personally?” the dwarf echoed in disbelief. “What she did was betray me!”

Thranduil’s chin lifted slightly, allowing him to look even more down his nose. “And you attempted to take her life,” he said emotionlessly. “Is that how you treat someone who was the only mother figure you have ever known? I think not.”

“She deserved everything that came to her,” the dwarf spat. “And she was no mother to me.”

“I did not say she was your mother. I said she was a mother _figure._ I guess my words cannot reach you so far away down there,” Thranduil said flippantly.

Thorin bristled. “You wish to trade insults? At least I am not having sex with a back-stabbing snake!”

Thranduil stiffened. “And your insinuation is..?”

“Word has already reached me,” he scoffed in disgust. “Why do you think she brought the gems to you, if it was not for a place in your bed? Are you really so blind to the truth? Are you going to let your lust for her cloud your judgement?”

The elf took a deep breath, circling around Thorin, his hands behind his back. “I believe I have found the real reason you bear so much hatred towards her, besides the fact that she is an elf,” he murmered. He stopped and leaned down, his mouth close to his ear. “She is _mine._ ” He slowly walked backwards, a smug smirk in place.

Thorin huffed. “You are welcome to the filthy being,” he sneered. “Two low-down, thieving, lying orc-scum suited to one another.”

Katalia had heard enough, and shoved the door fully open.

Thranduil’s eyes moved to hers, widening in surprise. Thorin whirled around at the intrusion, his look of shock quickly turning to one of hatred.

“You two-faced bitch!” he yelled, and lunged at her. She grabbed his shoulders and twisted her body, knocking him off-balance and sending him to the hard stone floor.

“Guards!” Thranduil roared angrily as he marched over.

“You do not get to touch me,” she hissed, leaning over the dwarf. “And you do not speak to him like that. I pity your people; the ruler they once had died a long time ago.”

Thranduil’s hands took hold of her upper arms, gently steering her away as his guards grabbed Thorin and dragged him to his feet. Legolas held a sword across his throat as he struggled and fought against his captors.

“You should not be here,” Thranduil whispered to her. “Are you alright?”

“She is unharmed!” Thorin shouted. “Although not if I had my way! She should have been dead months ago!”

Thranduil whipped round to face him, pushing his son’s sword aside and closing his strong hand around the dwarf’s throat. “I hear you utter such words again, and I will personally take your sorry life myself!” he spat. “You almost succeeded in your attempt to kill her!”

“It is a pity I didn’t,” Thorin growled, struggling against the hold the guards had on him. “You are nothing but scum! Give me back the gems!” he roared at Katalia.

“Never!” she shouted. “You have no right to them, you have no claim on them. You are not _worthy_ of them.”

Thorin hissed something in a language she didn’t understand, but Thranduil did and twisted his arm, throwing him out of the guards’ hold and onto the floor.

“Take him to the dungeons,” he ordered, turning his back. His chest heaved as he breathed, the fury flowing through him.

“What did he say?” Katalia asked, watching her former ward being dragged away.

Thranduil shook his head. “It matters not. Why did you come in here?”

She folded her arms. “I was down in the kitchens, and when I came up I could hear the shouting and yelling.”

A confused frown followed. “What were you doing in the kitchens?” he asked.

“Practicing my archery,” she shot back.

His eyebrows rose so fast, she doubled over laughing, despite the tense atmosphere.

“I was cooking,” she said, trying to halt her laughter. “And you did not answer my question.”

“Which was? Any why on earth were you cooking? I have a cook who does that, hence his title.”

“What did Thorin say to anger you? And I like to cook sometimes,” she said. “I enjoyed helping out down there.”

“What that useless oaf said matters neither here nor there,” he replied. “And as the future Queen of this realm, you have no need to be in the kitchens cooking.”

“Stop changing the subject,” she said. “Are you going to tell me what he said?”

“No.”

She tutted in exasperation. “Why did you not tell me he was here?”

He looked at her. “I did not wish for you to have to face him, after what he did to you,” he replied truthfully. “I wanted to protect you from that.”

She lightly ran her fingers down his cheek, touched at his concern for her. “I can cope with whatever he has to say about me. But I will not stand back and let him insult you, not over something which I have brought upon myself.”

He lowered his head, his long hair trailed down over his shoulder. “You did the right thing according to your heritage and the elvish custom,” he told her. Blue eyes settled on hers as he looked up at her from his lowered stance. “Oakenshield can rot for some time before I set him free.”

She smiled. “I know you will free him,” she said. “It is not in your blood to take his life, not over something like this.”

He lifted his head sharply, keeping eye contact with her. “He makes one more attempt on your life, I _will_ end his, in the most painful way possible.”

She shifted. “I actually wanted to know if you wanted to come with me out into the forest with the horse,” she said. “I rather like the idea of riding him outside of the courtyard, give him something different to look at for a change.”

He nodded as he thought over her suggestion. “Do you think he will behave with my presence?” he asked.

“I do not see why not,” she replied, taking his hand and pulling him out of the room. “He has reacted well with the stable-hand, and is a bit more tolerant now than he was, so I think I may be winning with him.”

“Then by all means my love, we will give it a try if it pleases you,” he said.

She smiled up at him as they walked along the corridor. “As long as I am with you, I am happy,” she said.

*****

Katalia awoke with a start, almost leaping from Thranduil’s arms.

The door to his chambers had burst open, with a distressed guard presenting himself.

“My Lord, we are under attack!” he cried, clearly in a panic.

Thranduil shot up in bed instantly. “What do you speak of?” he demanded, wide awake within seconds.

“Orcs, my Lord! Orcs everywhere! They have got past the main gates and are invading!” the guard cried.

“Get out, and get every fighter out there,” he snapped. The guard vanished and he threw the blankets back as he leapt out of the warm bed and Katalia’s arms. He dressed in a matter of moments, and she blinked in shock as an angry warrior dressed in full battle armour appeared before her. “You do not move from this room,” he told her as he lifted his swords. “No matter what happens, you stay within these walls.”

“But-“

“But nothing,” he interrupted. “You stay here, no matter if the stars fall from the sky and the sun burns out.” Leaning down, he crushed his mouth to hers. “I love you.”

She sat frozen in shock at the speed with which everything had happened, and she was left alone in a pile of blankets.

_What??_

She huffed in annoyance and tossed the covers away and slid out of the bed. Her feet hit the thick rug and she fled across the room, grabbing her leggings and her tunic. Quickly dressing, she tugged her boots on and lifted the sword Thranduil used for practice. She swung it before her a few times, testing the weight. It was much heavier than anything she had used previously, but this weapon spoke of being crafted for one particular master, who was more skilled and far stronger than she was.

“It will have to do,” she muttered to herself and hurried from the chambers.

The hallways and corridors were deserted, so nobody impeded her escape from the palace. A voice roared to her as she crossed past the dungeons.

“Let me out, damn you!” Thorin yelled, gripping the bars of his cell.

She stopped, eyeing him. “We are under attack,” she said. “Will you fight for us?”

He hesitated.

“Wrong answer,” she said, and disappeared, his angry yells following her. Bursting out through the staff entrance onto the courtyard, bloodshed and carnage met her stunned eyes.

Orcs had indeed taken over; they were swarming over the grounds, a thick dark cloud that was progressing towards the palace. Guards and soldiers fought valiantly against them, the clash of swords deafening.

Katalia turned and spotted the horse she had been trying to tame watching her from over the stable door, and she sprinted over to him. “Time to prove your worth,” she said as she unlatched the door. She leapt up onto his back and kicked her heels against his sides, and he bolted out of the wooden enclosure he called home.

Urging him into a gallop, she charged through the masses, swinging Thranduil’s sword and taking heads and limbs off with every sweep of the heavy weapon. Black orc blood splashed over her and the horse, but neither reacted. A guard dropped to his knees in death as she passed, and she leaned down and grabbed his sword, knowing he was beyond needing it and she always fought better with twin blades.

Turning the horse with a nudge of her knees and a swing of her upper body, the animal swiftly changed direction and kept running. Both swords slashed rapidly as they moved through the onslaught of the enemy, orcs falling to the ground in a breakneck succession of corpses. She ducked and dived astride the horse, avoiding death blows as they targeted her.

Legolas was up on top of the wall, firing arrows with enviable speed. Katalia spotted an orc advancing along the wall behind him, and charged alongside the wall, swinging up with Thranduil’s blade and taking one of his legs off. He crashed to the ground behind her with an agonising scream, and Legolas nodded his acknowledgement.

Turning back once more, she faced several orcs advancing towards her, neatly decapitating or plunging her blades into them. The stench of death was thick and heavy, almost clouding the air around her.

Her horse didn’t put a hoof wrong. He carried her through the battle, avoiding fallen bodies and attacks as he galloped.

Katalia took a deep breath as she focused her eyes on one orc in particular; a massive one bigger than the rest, who was slashing mercilessly at any elf within his reach. Her brows came down in a scowl as she spotted a glimpse of long blond hair not even four feet away, and she knew he was heading for Thranduil.

_Over my dead body,_ she thought, urging the horse towards him. Time seemed to freeze as the beast turned his head and locked eyes with her, a sly smirk creeping over his hideous face. He shouted something in black speech, turning his body to face her.

Thranduil’s head whipped round and his face went white with horror. “No!” he bellowed.

She ignored him.

Hooves thundered along the concrete, the horse’s mane whipping in the wind with the speed at which he moved. She drew her arms across the front of her body tightly, swords extended on either side. As she came level with the orc, both weapons whipped outwards in a lightning fast, vicious manoeuvre. Even given the added height of the horse, the weapons slashed across his chest area, a deep gash instantly bleeding black sludge.

The orc roared in anger and swung an arm around, sending her to the ground with a solid impact. Bouncing to her feet, she screamed in pain as he gripped her right arm and lifted her into the air, intent on throwing her. She used every ounce of strength left in her body and plunged her left arm forwards, driving her blade deep into his throat.

Black blood sprayed everywhere.

She crashed onto the ground again as he let go, landing on her back with her leg twisted underneath her, yelping in pain. Two strong arms slid under her arms and dragged her backwards, dumping her next to the palace doors.

Thranduil strode away from her without looking back.

She scowled.

Dragging herself to her feet, she hobbled back into the midst of the battle, unseen by the King who was back to defending his people.

Her right arm was almost immobile with pain after being almost wrenched from its socket, so she dropped the sword she had taken from the fallen guard and switched Thranduil’s sword to her left. Saying a quick prayer to the gods for giving her the gift of ambidexterity, she attacked anything that came within reach.

She found herself side by side with Tauriel, who battled with expert precision with two blades, and together they cleared a massive legion that seemed hell-bent on taking the two women to their deaths.

Eventually Katalia dropped to her knees in exhaustion and pain as she drove her sword through the skull of the last orc near her, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. Casting her gaze around, only a few of the enemy remained, and the elves were successfully ending the reign of terror.

Tauriel’s hand touched her shoulder in a gentle gesture. “My Lady, are you alright?” she asked. “Do you wish for the King?”

She shook her head, dragging her forearm over her face. “No, I am ok,” she replied, and struggled to get to her feet. The ground seemed to sway beneath her as she slowly walked through the mountains of corpses, both enemy and elf.  A sadness washed over her as she surveyed the death toll on her own kind; guards and warriors who had been taken by surprise and would never see the light of the sunrise again. She stopped, tears filling her eyes as she looked around.

These elves had given their lives defending their King, their home, and their people.

And those lives were gone forever.

Her eyes lifted and connected to Thranduil’s, and she saw the same sadness and pain in his. The look was gone in an instant, and he made his way towards her, his expression cold.

“You require a healer,” he said, stopping before her. “Tauriel will take you.”

Her mouth opened in surprise as he turned and walked swiftly away from her, leaving her standing there.

“He is worried, my Lady,” Tauriel said softly, touching her elbow. “Please allow me to take you to the healing rooms. You need attention.”

She nodded silently, a numbness creeping into her bones.


	11. Chapter 11

** CHAPTER ELEVEN **

****

Katalia winced in pain as the healer manipulated her right arm, lifting and pulling on the limb.

“It is not dislocated,” he decided with a frown, lowering her arm and releasing his hold. “I do not think any lasting damage has been done, but this will require rest for a couple of days. Maybe three days?”

She nodded, sighing in defeat.

“You fought valiantly today, my Lady,” he remarked, cleaning a gash on her cheek. “I would say your death toll is possibly close to three hundred, maybe more.”

“I did not count,” she replied, closing her eyes against the stinging pain. Every muscle and bone in her body ached.

“You did not listen to my orders either,” a deep voice said.

Her eyes flew open, to find Thranduil just inside the doorway.

Quietly furious.

“Leave us,” he barked at the healer.

“But my Lord-“ he began, and was silenced with an icy glare. He retreated, closing the door behind him.

Thranduil’s glare turned to Katalia. “You disobeyed me.”

“I defended against an evil enemy,” she corrected in a calm voice. The pain she was feeling was becoming too much for her to withstand.

He stepped towards her. “Let me set some ground rules down,” he said. “I am the King, and when I give an order, I expect it to be followed to the letter. No exceptions.”

She frowned as she glared up at him from her position sitting on the edge of a bed.

“That means you do _not_ challenge me or go against what I have said,” he snarled. “I specifically told you _not_ to leave my chambers under _any_ circumstances.”

She took a deep breath. “I am a trained fighter,” she said.

“I do not care _what_ you are!” he roared, his fury blasting through his calm demeanour. “You are not above everyone else when I give an order!”

She shot from the edge of the bed, standing toe to toe with him. “I will _not_ lounge around in bed like some damned concubine while my people are being attacked and slaughtered!” she shouted back. “I was born to fight, and fight is what I shall do if the need arises!”

“The need did not arise!” he yelled back. “When I command something, I expect it to be obeyed!”

She lifted one eyebrow. “I am not a trained dog!”

“At least a trained dog would do as ordered!” he thundered. “You deliberately disobeyed me!”

“Do not speak to me like I am some impudent child!” she yelled. “I can best most of your guards any given day, and you know this! My place was out there doing what I did, not locked away in some damned room hiding away from reality!”

He leaned down, so close she could see the inferno that blazed in his eyes. “Maybe I should lock you away in a dungeon!” he screamed. “Maybe then you would do as you are told!”

“Nobody tells me what to do!” she snarled. “You may have saved my life, you may have given me a job and a home, you may have taken me to your bed, but you _do not_ treat me like a trained pet or a possession, do you understand?!”

He pulled back a little, eyeing her with contempt. “A trained pet would be put out of its misery if it went against orders,” he said coldly.

She narrowed her eyes. “Is that a threat?” she asked incredulously. “Because if it is, you are _not_ the man I thought you were!”

“You showed me nothing but disrespect by ignoring what I had commanded!”

“Poor you!” she shouted angrily. “Never mind the amount of lives that were lost today, just be pissed because I did not show you _respect!_ ”

“You do not speak to me like that! You forget I am your King!” he bellowed.

“I forget nothing!” she hissed. “Right now you are someone I no longer wish to speak with!”

“That suits me!” he shouted, spun around and stormed out of the room. The door slammed so hard behind him, the walls around her shook with the reverberating force.

She sighed, sinking back onto the bed. Silence filled the room, almost deafening after the volume of their screaming match.

A few minutes passed before the door knocked gently, and Legolas appeared.

“Do not let your father catch you talking to me,” she said dryly.

He closed the door behind him as he entered the room. “I wanted to thank you for what you did this morning,” he said, coming to a halt in front of her. “You saved my life.”

She shrugged, staying silent.

“My father is beside himself with worry, and he is scared,” he said softly.

She looked up at him, a questioning look in her eyes.

“He is terrified something happens to you,” he said. “We all are. My father has changed since you came into our lives.”

“He hates me right now because I _disobeyed_ him,” she said.

He laughed. “He does not take it well when someone goes against him,” he acknowledged. “You are good for him. He knows this, but his ego and his title as King prevents him from admitting it, even to himself perhaps. Give him time; he will calm down.”

“Maybe…but will I?” she replied. “I do not take too kindly to being compared to a trained pet, and after the way I answered him, I seriously doubt he will calm down any time soon.”

Legolas pulled his mouth in. “He will. You have him wrapped around your little finger, you just are not aware yet how to use that to your advantage. It will happen, trust me.”

With that, he winked and excused himself, leaving her alone once more.

*****

Two days passed.

On the third day, Katalia was convinced her arm was back to full strength, the healing abilities of the elvish race proving their worth with the speed of her recovery.

She hadn’t seen Thranduil since the outburst in the healing rooms, after which she had to apologise profusely to the healer for his outrageous behaviour. The older elf had waved her off, insisting it was nothing of concern.

She felt otherwise.

Hurt and angry, she felt abandoned at the long silence and the obvious manner in which he was going out of his way to steer clear of her. Sure, he was angry she had gone against him. But she had taken down a considerable amount in the battle, had saved his son’s life amongst countless others, including his own. These things obviously meant nothing to him when his ego had been dented, his pride wounded.

So she had slapped his egotistical attitude into touch – surely that was no reason for him to completely shut her off. He hadn’t even been to see how she was after being wounded, and that hurt her.

Rotating her shoulder, she stretched and flexed her arm, testing the manoeuvrability and dexterity. Satisfied that she was back on top form, she wandered aimlessly through the halls, bored, lost, and looking for something to take her mind off her current isolation.

Passing an open doorway, she glanced over her shoulder as a movement caught her peripheral vision.

Thranduil appeared in the doorway, his face cold. He beckoned her into the room, closing the door. She glanced around, seeing the room for the first time.

Weapons of all shapes and sizes were strategically lining all four walls, with massive windows high up, allowing the influx of natural light to fill the room.

He walked past her, going over to one of the weapon-lined walls. Picking up two swords, he spun them around testing their weight, his back to her. Neither of them spoke.

He turned, tossing one of the weapons to her, which she caught deftly. The other followed, and she caught it too. He selected two more swords, inspecting them and again testing their weight, then strolled to the centre of the room, where he stopped and stared at her.

“You think you are a fighter,” he said. “You think you can go up against the best. Prove it.”

She breathed through her nose, watching his eyes. Cold ice blue stared back at her, an emotionless mask on his face. Blinking slowly, she took a step towards him, remaining silent.

If he wanted to play mind games, then so be it.

Her left sword swung up with lightning speed as he attacked, the steel screaming as it came into contact, pushing his weapon aside. Her right weapon sliced around, and he ducked as it sailed harmlessly through the air over his head.

He smirked.

She slowly circled him, her eyes never leaving his.

He turned, keeping her in his direct line of vision, waiting for her to make a move.

Her fingers flexed around the handles of her weapons as she moved slowly and leisurely, almost as though she was out for a stroll in the forest, she looked so relaxed.

Thranduil read the dangerous energy in her eyes.

She leapt backwards a step, avoiding the swish of his twin blades as they sliced within millimetres of her throat and brought both her swords up to deflect them. His arms fell to his sides with the impact.

She continued to circle.

Again he attacked, and again she defended. Her skill and strength weren’t even being tested, and she was acutely aware of the fact. He seemed to be toying with her, and getting some sort of kick out of it.

The atmosphere changed.

He lunged at her with a whirl of steel, making her light on her feet as she swirled and ducked out of his reach. Turning and twisting, she outsmarted every move, matching him step for step. The racket from their swords as they battled was horrendous as he led her in an energetic dance across the floor.

Katalia tolerated this for twenty minutes without tiring, then decided she’d had enough and launched from defensive to offensive. Momentarily catching him by surprise, she managed to disarm him of one of his weapons, and returned the smirk he’d given her earlier.

Her strong inner resolve served her well as she kept her anger and frustration at bay, reminding herself that this was a mind game, and she seldom lost out to mind games. Her swords flashed through the air with deadly accuracy – she had no intention of harming him. Her purpose was to disarm him, and prove that she wasn’t a weak-spirited opponent. Whatever he could throw at her, she could take.

Thranduil fought just as fluently and skilled with the one sword, his movements fluid and graceful as he defended her onslaught. Never once did he break eye contact, and neither did she.

They battled on, crossing back and forth, and circling the room as they went head-to-head.

Time passed.

Neither backed down or showed any signs of weakness to the other.

Thranduil had managed to retrieve his fallen weapon and went back to fighting with two, pushing her skills to the limit as he seemed to pick up speed instead of tiring.

Backing her into a corner, his swords were in an X formation in front of her, hers in an identical hold as she pushed against his. Blue fire blazed into blue ice, unblinking.

She swung her blades downwards, dropping in height and ducked past him, swinging round to face his back. He turned simultaneously, anticipating her move. She was faster though, and rapidly relieved him of one sword again. One of her blades fought against his in defence, and his attention wavered slightly; just enough for her to make her move.

He blinked in surprise as the tip of her left sword shot up from nowhere and pressed against his throat.

Seconds ticked past as they stayed locked in that position.

Katalia stepped backwards, dropping her weapons to the floor, her shoulders sagging. Her mind was exhausted, drained from having to go up against the one she loved. She turned and walked away from him.

Before she knew what was happening, her feet were kicked from beneath her and she crashed painfully onto the floor on her back, Thranduil sitting astride her with his blade across her throat.

“ _Never_ turn your back on your enemy,” he growled, his face inches from hers.

She panted for breath, staring up at him.

A gasp of surprise left her as his mouth crashed down onto hers, kissing her with bruising passion as his sword slid harmlessly away and landed on the floor. His hands threaded through her hair as he held her head in place, devouring her with hunger.

Pulling back and panting hard, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. She lay on the floor beneath him, unable to get a read on his emotions or his frame of mind.

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as she held her position, waiting to see what he did or said.

Eventually he pulled away from her and rose to his feet, pulling her to hers. He gripped her and kissed her again, a hard and bruising kiss that spoke of needs and feelings he was battling within himself. Her arms wound around his neck as she responded, feeling the energy flowing between them.

Within seconds he had lifted her and sat her on a wooden cabinet that ran the length of the room, his hands roaming everywhere. Not breaking the kiss, he tugged her leggings and her underwear down, yanking them from her legs and tossing them on the floor. A cry of lust left her mouth as she felt him unfastening his trousers and pushing in between her spread thighs, frantically seeking her heat. A bolt of sheer sexual energy shot through her as he pushed into her, his hardness stretching her, her body accepting and welcoming him.

Hard, rapid thrusts followed, his mouth locked with hers, his hands travelling all over her body. They settled on her hips as he pulled her tightly into his desperate pounding. She gripped the fabric of his tunic at the back of his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist in an attempt to bond even closer. The hard wood she was balanced on was unyielding, but the passion burned so intense between them that she didn’t notice.

His hips rocked steadily into her with each thrust seeming to go deeper, to reach further into her soul. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back as he finally wrenched his mouth from hers and explored his way down her throat. Both of them panted hard as the inferno threatened to consume them, burning everything around them in a white-hot blaze of flame.

Sucking hard on her neck, he slid a hand between them and lightly stroked her clitoris, his hips never losing their frantic pace. Her body tightened in response as the tension escalated and the sensations heightened. Her orgasm crept up from nowhere and blasted through her, almost taking her by surprise as she turned into a quivering, shuddering wreck in his grasp. He thrust harder as she convulsed around him, finding his own release within a few moments after her.

Breathing heavily, he leaned his head against her neck and tightened his arms around her, closing his eyes. She kept her arms up around his neck, her feet still locked at his back, and relaxed against him. The heat from his body seemed to override the heat from hers, his strength permeating through into her.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly pulled out of her, his hand sliding around her waist as he stooped to retrieve her discarded clothing. Not saying a word, he slid her underwear and her leggings up her legs, carefully lifting her off the unit to pull them into their rightful place. Ice blue eyes stared deep into hers and he took her hand, leading her from the practice room.


	12. Chapter 12

** CHAPTER TWELVE **

****

Neither of them spoke a word as Thranduil led Katalia through the palace and outside, heading towards the heavily wooded garden area where only he had access. They walked in a reasonable state of peacefulness, even though both were silently wondering what was going through the other’s mind.

Eventually they slowed down, approaching a small but beautiful waterfall that cascaded gently over the rocks into a pool, the water frothing as it swished around. Thranduil lowered himself to sit on one of the larger rocks that surrounded the pool, gently urging her to sit with him.

Keeping hold of her hand, he sat quietly for a while, staring at the hand he held. “I shouted at you because I care, because I love you,” he said, breaking the seemingly infinite silence. Ice blue eyes lifted to hers. “You are far too precious to me to be charging around in battle against such darkness, such evil, such horror. I wanted to protect you, shield you, keep you safe. That is why I told you to stay in my chambers.”

She inhaled deeply through her nose, turning her eyes from his and gazing at the waterfall instead.

He tugged her hand lightly. “Katalia, I _love_ you,” he said, emphasising the verb. “You are everything to me. I almost died in fright when I saw you out there battling with those beasts.”

Her eyes turned back, to see a distressed look in his. She swallowed. “I was born to be a fighter,” she said, picking her words carefully. “Yes, I let that lapse for decades while I took on another role in my life, but deep down, fighting is still in my nature. I had to follow you. I cannot put it in a plainer, more simplified way.”

He sighed. “I understand that,” he conceded. “And if it had been any other elleth I would have had no problem allowing what happened to happen. But you are _mine…_ do you not see? I could not cope if anything happened to you, my love. I _need_ you.”

Silence fell for a few minutes.

“You treated me like I was a curse,” she said finally. “You spoke to me like I was dirt, you screamed and shouted at me, then abandoned me for three days, Thranduil…three days. Put yourself in my position. Think how I felt, what was going through my mind.”

He nodded slowly, pursing his full mouth. “I should not have done that,” he admitted quietly.

“But you did. And I was injured. Not once did you come to see how I was, and that hurt probably more than anything,” she said, a slight touch of bitterness to her words.

His gaze connected once more with hers. “Yes I did.”

“No you did not.”

A slight smirk pulled at his mouth. “I spent every night at your side,” he said softly. “I sat with you while you were asleep.”

“Why did I not feel you there?” she asked with a frown.

“Because I blocked you,” he sighed. “You needed rest, time to heal.”

“I needed _you,_ ” she corrected.

“Maybe,” he agreed. “I felt that things were too volatile between us; my heart was still angry that you had been in danger, that you had gone against my wishes which were only there to protect you. But I could not stay away.”

She clenched her teeth as she turned her gaze back to the water, fighting her emotions.

“I cannot describe the terror that tore through my heart when you were knocked off the horse,” he said, his tone quiet. “Or when that beast dragged you up off the ground.” He stopped, shaking his head as he lowered it. “I thought it was over, that you were facing death.”

“I would not bow down in defeat to such filth,” she murmered, lost in the soothing rippling and bubbling of the water, the calming effects settling her mind. Turning back to him, she narrowed her eyes. “If you think I would sit back while you go off in battle, you are so misled, it is not even funny,” she told him. “I will fight to the death to protect our people, to protect _you._ And that is with or without your agreement or consent. If that presents a problem, then maybe we have to rethink our entire situation.”

Alarm flashed over his face. “What do you mean?” he asked in panic.

“Thranduil…I love you more than I could ever put into words,” she said. “But I cannot and will not live in a cocoon when real life is erupting around me, particularly where you are concerned. You spoke to me like I was a rabid animal, and that still cuts deeply.”

“I am sorry. I was wrong.”

Her gaze went back to the water.

“Stop looking away from me,” he said softly, and she looked back at him. “You are more precious to me than anything in this world, I adore you, I worship you. I want you to be safe no matter what the consequences, but I understand you must also have your freedom.” He stopped, taking a deep breath. “I should not have said the words I did. And I should not have left you feeling abandoned.”

She swallowed. “What is done, is done,” she whispered.

He leaned towards her and cupped her face with his free hand. “I love you so much, _Melleth Nin._ I never meant to cause you pain, please trust in me.”

“Why did you make me spar with you?” she asked, searching his eyes.

His chest expanded as he took a deep breath. “I wanted to goad you, get a reaction out of you,” he answered. “I wanted to know if you still felt anything towards me after what I have put you through. Even if you had refused and slapped me, I would have accepted it because it would have shown me that you had at least some emotions regarding me.”

She contemplated his words.

“I wanted you to lose, I wanted to prove how vulnerable you are,” he whispered.

“But I did not.”

“No…you did not,” he acknowledged. “I only had the upper hand because you walked away from me.”

“And I only did that because I had proved my point, I had held my own. And I could not fight you anymore,” she said. “We are not supposed to go head to head in battle; every move felt wrong.”

“You have skills that would make any of my soldiers look like bumbling idiots,” he told her. “And when we went into battle I ignored that, when in reality you saved so many lives. I know you saved my son, I know you saved me. I also know how close to death you came yourself, and this scares me beyond my understanding.”

She remained quiet.

He leaned forwards, touching his forehead against hers. “Please forgive me,” he whispered.

She tilted her head and touched her mouth to kiss in a deep, tender kiss. “I already have,” she whispered, releasing herself from his hold and sliding her arms around his broad shoulders. His long hair kissed her arms as she tightened them around him, holding on to him in a loving embrace. “And I probably always will.”

He pulled back with a questioning frown. “What do you mean, _probably always will?_ ” he asked. “Do you think I am going to spend eternity doing things so wrong that I shall have to keep asking for your forgiveness?”

She smiled as his voice rose with incredulousness. “Not particularly,” she replied. “All I ask is that you are faithful to me, you treat me like I mean something to you, and you do not turn away from me when I need you. I will always be faithful to you, I will always treat you properly because I love you so much, and I would never turn away if you needed me.”

He closed his eyes against the burning sensation her words caused, swallowing away the lump that had presented itself in his throat. “I too will be faithful to you, _forever,_ ” he whispered. “I belong to you like you belong to me. I will treat you like the precious gift you are, and never again will I turn away from you. That is my oath, my promise.”

She nodded, accepting his words. “I did not come into this with half a heart,” she said. “I intend to put everything I have into what we have, everything that I am. And that means my heart, my soul, my mind, and the air that I breathe.”

He brushed his lips over hers in a soft whisper. “You mean everything to me, absolutely everything. I do not have the words to tell you, but I pray that my actions from here on will speak for my heart.”

She sighed softly and turned her face into his neck, inhaling his unique aroma. A smell that reminded her of the forest, of the close bond between them, and of sheer masculinity.

“In case you did not know, there is no way I would allow you to be treated by any of my healers without them giving me detailed updates,” he said. “I spoke constantly with the healer who was treating you, then sat by your bedside every night while you slept.”

She smiled against him.

“I was just too stubborn and proud to come to you,” he added softly. “Perhaps being a King has dulled my senses of what is right and wrong in situations like that.”

She pulled back enough to look at him, gazing deep into his eyes. “You are a complex being,” she acknowledged. “And maybe because you have been alone for so long you no longer remember what a partner needs – not wants, _needs_ – from her lover.”

He nodded. “Contrary to what you spat at me the day we first met, I have not taken legions of women to my bed,” he said. “I have taken none.”

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “None?”

“None,” he repeated. “I too do not enter into relationships with half a heart. I give everything I have, like you do. I am old-fashioned, where sex has to mean something, the woman involved has to mean something to me. It took me a long time to come to terms with an arranged marriage, and I swore at the end of it that I would not endeavour in short-lived affairs. I had to protect my heart as well as my kingdom.”

“I understand,” she said, and lifted a hand to run it through the length of his hair. “You were not short on offers though…you have told me this yourself.”

He shrugged. “Offers mean nothing. I did not follow through on any of them. I had no desire to.” He studied her. “Why did you remain alone all this time?”

She inhaled deeply, contemplating her reasons. “I was fully committed to leading Elrond’s armies,” she replied. “And after that, I was committed to raising Thorin to adulthood. Similar to what you said, I also did not want to wander from relationship to relationship. And truth be told? Nobody made my heart beat the way it does now. I knew I was in trouble the night I came to you with the gems.”

He smirked. “And why was that, my love?” he questioned as he rose from the rock, pulling her with him. They walked side by side, hand in hand.

Her cheeks turned a rosy shade of pink.

“Tell me,” he teased, grinning.

“You just made my heart beat faster, made me so aware of you,” she said, struggling to find the words, and he laughed. “It is not funny,” she said, turning darker pink.

“Oh _Melleth Nin,_ you are adorable,” he laughed, kissing her temple as they walked. “No wonder I fell so hard for you.”

She glanced up at him, his stunning looks once again taking her breath away.

“What? I _did_ fall for you,” he repeated. “I was shocked at first when you appeared. Like you are aware, I wrongly assumed you were Oakenshield’s lover, and I was curious as to why you had come to me. When you left after returning the gems, I knew I had to follow you. I knew you were going to change my life.”

“Upset the balance of what you knew,” she murmered.

“Not at all. I was struck by your beauty, mystified at the reasons behind your actions, and hungry to learn more about you,” he told her. “As time passed I fell deeper and deeper under your spell, until I could no longer sit through a half hour meeting without becoming completely lost as all I could think about was you. You were everywhere; you had integrated yourself into my soul in a way I cannot describe.”

Again she glanced up at him, her heart skipping a beat at the intensity of the emotion in his ice blue eyes as he met hers. “I was right there with you, feeling the same things,” she admitted with a smile. “I did not have the courage to do anything about it, or to let you know what I was feeling. Every being in Middle Earth has spoken of how cold and unapproachable you are, and I did not think it would be accepted if I voiced my feelings.”

He smiled, swinging their joined hands between them as they entered the palace. “Now we do not have to concern ourselves with such nonsense,” he remarked. “I love you beyond words, you love me. We have a wedding to plan, and a future to build.” He stopped, gazing down at her as he ran his free hand through her hair. “A future I cannot wait to build, memories I cannot wait to create.”

A servant presented himself at Thranduil’s back, coughing discreetly. “My Lord, the cook is enquiring when you wish dinner to be served.”

Thranduil didn’t break eye contact with Katalia. “Tell him we will have dinner served in my chambers,” he replied. “Both of us.” He smiled at her, and she smiled back. The servant disappeared. “Shall we go, my love?”

“Lead the way,” she replied.

*****

They enjoyed dinner, feeling contented and at ease back in each other’s company. Afterwards, Thranduil suggested a bath, and they relaxed in each other’s arms in the warm water. Katalia sat with her back against his chest, his arms crossed over her stomach. She had never felt so complete, so in tune with another person.

“I feel our bond,” he murmered in her ear, making her open her eyes. “I can feel it becoming stronger.”

“I thought it was just my imagination,” she said. “I have heard so many stories about elves bonding and being able to feel each other’s presence, their thoughts and feelings.”

He slowly rubbed circles on her skin with both thumbs. “No, it is not just stories,” he replied. “Many other races assume it is simply creative, romanticised dreams, but it is real. The bond once fully developed is unbreakable. In time, we will be able to communicate through our bond with our thoughts.”

She twisted her head and gazed up into his eyes, blinking slowly.

He smiled. “It is intense; it is pure.”

“I assume…” she trailed off.

“Eventually, and to a point,” he said. “It took many centuries for me to connect with Legolas’s mother. I did tell you that what we had was an arranged marriage, so it had to be worked at. With you it is completely different; the bond has been natural and expected. I know within myself that once developed it will become so strong, much stronger than even I am anticipating.”

“Maybe I should have had a lover years ago,” she murmered thoughtfully, leaning back against him in her original position. “Then I would have knowledge regarding what you speak of. This is all new to me.”

He rested his chin on her shoulder. “What is wrong with waiting for the bond to establish itself with the right one?” he asked. “Instead of a half-hearted effort with someone who is not destined to be the true one?”

She murmered a soft acknowledgement. “I feel so…what is the word…ignorant?”

He lifted one hand and pressed a wet finger against her lips. “Do not speak of such things,” he told her. “Love is about learning from one another, finding your own path, creating connections with that person. It is not about who knows what, or who has more knowledge. Each bond is different according to the couple, and no two are the same. They vary in intensity, they vary in power. True love is not measured by who has more experience or knowledge, it is measured by how much they treasure one another.”

His deep velvet voice merged into her bones, the sensual tone and his words finding their way into her heart. She turned in his arms again, pressing her mouth to his in a silent request. He responded instantly, feeling her need and her hunger. A warm feeling of intense love flooded through him as they kissed, his soul reading a depth and passion that maybe she didn’t even understand yet.

Breaking the kiss, he stood and urged her to her feet, wrapping her in a soft towel and lifting her into his arms. He stepped from the water and carried her over to the bed, where he gently lay her down and dried her off, before making love to her in such a deep, heartfelt way that conveyed unspoken words of commitment, trust, and devotion.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

****

Thranduil’s attention was elsewhere. His ice blue eyes gazed out through the open doorway, watching Katalia canter around the courtyard on the horse she had named Talagor, Sindarin for “fast foot”. He thought the name was highly appropriate, given that the animal had served her well during their battle against the orcs. She controlled the horse with confidence and ability, steering him around various obstacles in their path, jumping him over different objects.

Thranduil’s mouth went dry and he swallowed, his gaze dropping to her strong thighs as she rode bareback. The muscles tightened and guided the animal, who was in tune to every miniscule movement she made. Her bare feet gripped the soft coat, her toes flexing against him.

He visibly shook himself and blinked determinedly as he realised she was trotting towards him, pulling Talagor to a halt a few feet away. His eyes lifted to hers, to be greeted with a subtle smirk.

“My Lord!” the noble standing beside him said in exasperation. “I understand you are otherwise occupied with the passing scenery, but please _try_ to hear my concerns!”

He slowly turned, a cold expression on his face. “Passing scenery?” he repeated. “You did not just refer to my wife as _passing scenery._ ”

The noble sighed, folding his arms. “My Lord, I know you are hasty but she is _not_ your wife yet. Please remember that as King you have a duty to attend to, other than…than…” He trailed off, gesturing towards Katalia who was watching the exchange with interest.

Thranduil’s nostrils flared in temper. “Remove yourself from my presence,” he ordered.

“But-“

His chin lifted, and he glared down at the vile man next to him, effectively cutting him off. The smaller man swallowed and bowed.

“My apologies, my Lord,” he grovelled, and scuttled back inside the palace.

Thranduil glared at his retreating back before turning back to the stunning beauty who was still sitting astride the horse. “I am sorry, _Melleth Nin._ You should not have to have overheard such nonsense.”

She laughed, tossing her long black hair over one shoulder. “I do not care what he thinks of me,” she replied, petting Talagor’s neck. “I have heard things from the maids. I know things about him that even his wife is not aware of.”

“I do not wish to know,” he said dryly. “The less I know concerning the mindless idiot, the better.”

“Come pat him,” she said, holding her hand out. “He will allow you.”

He eyed the horse warily. Even though they had gone riding together before, he had been on his own mount and had not touched him. Lifting his eyes back to Katalia, he frowned. “If he bites me, it will be your fault.”

She laughed heartily. “Do you think I would encourage you if I thought he would respond in such ways? Your fingers are far too useful, my King.” A mischievous wink accompanied her words.

“Let us hope after this I still have some left for you to enjoy,” he muttered, taking a step towards the animal. Holding his hand out, he slowly and carefully approached him, with Katalia continuing to pat his neck and murmer softly to him.

The horse sniffed his outstretched hand for a minute or two, and finally decided that he was a friend, before butting hard against his shoulder.

She laughed and pulled on his reigns a little, to prevent him from repeating the action as Thranduil went back a step or two.

“Damned wild animal,” he muttered.

She slid from his back, rubbing his nose affectionately. “He is making exceptional progress,” she said. “A month ago, he would have gone mad being in the presence of a male. Now he has accepted you as a friend rather than an enemy.”

Thranduil frowned at the horse, marvelling at the connection between it and his handler.

“What do you plan to do with him, if I can bring him up to standard?” she asked, turning deep blue eyes to him.

“I plan to do nothing,” he drawled. “The animal does not belong to me.”

“But he is in your care,” she said, puzzled. “You said he was found in the woods. Who does he belong to?”

He lowered his head, crushing her mouth under his in a hot, deep kiss. “You.”

Her eyes widened in shock as he lifted his head.

He muttered something unintelligible under his breath, slid his hand around the back of her neck, and kissed her again. And again. And again.

Talagor stamped the ground impatiently, demanding attention.

“You are going to give the gossips so much to talk about,” she laughed as they reluctantly parted.

“I do not care,” he said with an arrogant shrug. “I am the King, you are my lover, you are going to be my wife. Let them talk. They are merely jealous of what we have. They are jealous because I get to kiss you.” His voice lowered to a husky whisper. “They are jealous because I get to touch your naked body, to kiss it everywhere, to lick everywhere, to make love to you…”

She blinked as he trailed off.

“I do not like such thoughts,” he decided with a deep scowl.

She started to laugh. “Then do not think them!” she told him. “Anyway; they are in your imagination only, no one else’s. I am sure of this.”

He snorted. “They had better not be in anyone else’s.”

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. “I am going to feed and settle Talagor,” she said. “Do you have time for a quick lunch together?”

“I will make time for you, my love,” he replied, giving her a quick kiss. “I shall see you when you are ready. Come and find me.”

“I will,” she replied, as he turned with a swish of his cloak and strode inside. Her heart melted at the majestic sight of him, his powerful, confident strides enough to bring her to her knees with longing. Grunting in frustration she turned to the horse and proceeded to take him back to the stables.

*****

Wandering through the huge expanse of the mostly-underground palace, Katalia hummed softly to herself. She had freshened up and changed into a dress in beautiful varying shades of blue, that darkened as it flowed to the floor. Wondering where Thranduil had vanished to, she followed the hallways and corridors until she found herself on the ledge that overlooked the dungeons.

The sight of her lover’s strong back presented itself to her.

“I will _not_ even consider this preposterous idea!” he thundered. “You are not as stupid as you look – you are even more stupid, if that is even possible. You disgust me.”

A garbled voice muttered something in response, but she couldn’t make out who it was or what they said.

“Never in ten hundred lifetimes,” he snarled, gripping the bars of the cell. “You are deluded beyond comprehension if you think for one second that I would even entertain such nonsense. Stay here if you will, and rot. I have heard enough.” He swirled around, stopping dead as his gaze connected with Katalia’s. His shoulders sagged slightly, and he made his way up to her.

She stared at the bedraggled figure of Thorin, who glared at her from behind the dungeon bars.

“I do not wish for you to come down here, _Melleth nin,_ ” Thranduil said as he approached her. “It is not safe. And the company is unsavoury.”

“You told me to find you, and I searched everywhere else,” she said, turning her deep blue eyes to him. “What were you doing down here with him?”

He blinked, pulling himself from the drowning sensation he had from staring into her eyes. “One of the guards informed me Oakenshield wanted to speak with me,” he replied.

“And?” she prompted.

He _pfffft’_ d in disgust. “He had nothing worth listening to.”

“He had enough to anger you,” she pointed out. “What was he proposing?”

He glanced at her, shocked that she’d heard that, and stumbled for the right words. “His freedom,” he managed.

She folded her arms, one eyebrow lifted as she stared at him. “The truth now, please.”

“He wishes me to pay exuberant amounts in return for the white gems,” he said. “Seeing as their lowly kind were already paid over the odds for them in the beginning, I have refused.”

“I can understand that,” she acknowledged. “Why pay for something twice?”

“Exactly,” he said, taking her am and steering her away from the cavernous area. “I will not bargain or trade with the reprobate for what is already mine.”

“Forget him for a while then,” she suggested. “What are we having for lunch?”

“Can I have you?” he teased, a sparkle in his eyes as he grinned down at her. He chuckled at the look she gave him in return. “I think the cook has prepared some chicken.”

“Sounds delicious,” she said. “I am so hungry…it feels like breakfast was days ago rather than a few hours past.”

They crossed out onto the main corridor and turned towards the dining room, where the servants had laid out an impressive lunch.

“I have to ride out to the east border tomorrow,” Thranduil remarked, once they were seated and had begun eating. “Do you wish to accompany me?”

Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “I would love to,” she said with a wide smile. “It feels like forever since I have left the palace grounds.”

“And they bore you so much, my love?” he quipped. “I shall have to think of things to keep you occupied…keep that impish little mind of yours busy.”

She slid him a sideways glance, choosing not to reply, and he laughed.

“I am sorry, I seem to have only one thing on my mind today,” he admitted, his cheeks taking on a slight pink blush.

“That is because you were filling your head with lascivious thoughts earlier on,” she told him. “You have no one to blame but yourself, my love.”

He frowned. “Yes…it appears that any time I am in your company these thoughts flow freely through my mind,” he said. “Therefore it is not my fault, but rather yours.”

She tipped her head back and laughed heartily, making his heart miss a beat at the sheer beauty of her. “Oh no, you cannot put that on me,” she laughed. “I cannot control what you think.”

“You are _constantly_ teasing me,” he argued.

Her eyes widened. “I am not.”

“Yes, you are,” he replied.

She folded her arms. “And how do you reach this conclusion? How am I constantly teasing you?”

“By being around,” he shot back. “By breathing. By being you.”

She laughed again, going back to her meal. “There is no hope for you,” she decided. “You think you are the only one who has urges at inappropriate times?”

He leaned towards her, twisting a lock of her hair around his fist and tugging her closer. “You never tell me when you have these urges,” he whispered, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. “We could be taking advantage of them. Sating them. Relieving the pressure.” His mouth pressed against hers in a kiss that quickly turned erotic and sensual.

Her eyes drifted closed as she lost herself in his touch, her lunch forgotten. His tongue slid into her mouth, tasting, teasing, enticing her to respond.

She did.

He reached over with his other hand and slid it around the back of her neck, pulling her even closer as the kiss deepened and flames of arousal spread between them. She wriggled in her chair, the ache of lust blossoming to life between her legs. His thumb gently caressed the back of her neck and he pulled back to whisper softly as he kissed along her jaw towards her ear.

“I cannot wait for us to retire to my chambers tonight.” His seductive whisper seeped into her bloodstream. “I want to slowly undress you, I want to lick and kiss _every_ inch of you. I want you to ride me like you rode that horse.”

A soft murmer echoed from the back of her throat as his mouth wandered back to hers, claiming it in another deep kiss.

“I want to bury myself so deep within you that I can never come out,” he continued. “I want to feel your body tighten around mine, squeezing me, flooding me…”

“My Lord,” a voice burst into their erotic bubble, making the two of them jump apart.

Thranduil glared at the servant who had appeared at the far end of the table.

“I apologise for interrupting, but the dwarf prisoner wishes to speak with you again,” he said.

“Tell that degenerate that his wish has been denied,” Thranduil said coldly. “Tell him I am otherwise busy, and I expect to be for quite some length of time.” His eyes turned back to Katalia’s, the arousal still blazing in the depths of the blue ice. “He can wait until I have nothing better do to.”

The servant bowed respectfully and left the room.

Thranduil sighed. “What do I need to do in order to have some privacy?” he murmered as he ran his hands through her hair.

“Maybe instigate these sexual longings behind locked doors?” she suggested. “This is what happens when you have an important position in life my love, people will always need you for something.”

He grunted, reluctantly releasing her and turning back to his meal. “Maybe I should throw everyone out of the entire palace for a day.”

She laughed as she reached for a glass of orange juice. “Somehow I do not think you would accomplish much in the running of the realm if you were to do that.”

“I would not be running the realm,” he informed her matter-of-factly. “I would be devouring every part of you and bringing you to a screaming orgasm over and over again.”

She coughed and spluttered as her juice went own the wrong way, and he thudded the heel of his hand against her back.

“Is something wrong?” he inquired, raising one eyebrow innocently.

“Not a thing,” she wheezed.

He traced a fingertip along the edge of her neckline, his eyes following the movement. “Just imagine how many times I could make you come over an entire day,” he whispered seductively. “How many times we would have to change the bedsheets…”

“How many days I would be crippled afterwards,” she added with a laugh. “You have an important job to do, as have I. I have little ones to educate and a crazy horse to tame. Neither of us can shirk our responsibilities in favour of rolling around in bed all day.”

“I am aware,” he grumbled. “But it is pleasant to think about.”

She smiled, the sparkle in his eyes making her blush. “Keep those ideas and thoughts for one boring, cold night,” she suggested. “I’m sure we will be able to generate our own heat and pass the time.” She winked.

He gazed at her for a moment, before shaking his head to clear it and finally turning back to his long-forgotten lunch. “I cannot wait for winter to fall upon us,” he muttered.

She laughed.


	14. Chapter 14

** CHAPTER FOURTEEN **

****

Katalia squealed as warm hands gripped her waist from behind.

Turning, she laughed as Thranduil smirked down at her.

“What are you doing, you menace,” she chastised good-naturedly. “You are supposed to be making sure the guards will be ready on time.”

“I should not have to play child-minder to them,” he replied. “I would much rather be over here with you, helping you saddle up.”

She ran a hand down the strong neck of the huge black horse, having chosen not to take Talagor. The horse wasn’t yet accustomed to other riders, and she felt he would panic in the company of those who were heading out for the east boundary. “This is a stunning animal,” she commented appreciatively.

He nodded, rubbing the horse’s nose. “He is a level-headed mount and will protect you well,” he said.

“I should have no need for protection,” she frowned.

“I wish for you to be protected at all times,” he told her, turning his ice blue eyes back to hers. “Whether I am with you or not, there shall always be someone looking out for you.”

She smiled. “You think of me as a defenceless, weak female?”

“Not in the slightest, my love,” he replied. “Anything but that. But I still wish for you to be guarded. You are too precious to me to take any chances.” He turned his eyes skyward. “It looks like we are to be blessed with beautiful sunshine for our ride.”

“I hope so,” she said wistfully. “I much prefer dry ground as opposed to soggy mud when out riding. But at least we should be back by nightfall, all going well.”

“There is no reason why it should not go well; I have everything planned, and I know what needs to be carried out when we arrive. I propose we should be home within a mere few hours,” he said. He turned and glanced at those accompanying them, narrowing his eyes. “I shall ensure they are ready, then we will depart, my love.”

She tilted her head and accepted his quick kiss, then went back to checking her horse as he walked away.

Before long, the group of around twenty guards, led by Thranduil, were making their way through the forest. Katalia rode up alongside him, and they chatted away as their horses walked shoulder to shoulder.

“So what are your intentions when we get to our destination?” she asked.

He lifted a branch out of his way and ducked slightly as he passed below it. “I wish to check up on activity which has occurred in the vicinity,” he replied. “I have had reports of movement in the area.”

“Orcs?” she asked.

“I do not know,” he said. “Although my instinct tells me that it is possibly not orcs. I do not know what it is, as yet, and I am hoping after today I shall have more information.”

“You could have sent reinforced patrol, or messengers to relay details,” she said.

He smiled at her. “Yes. However, I wished to take you out of the palace grounds for a time,” he told her. “You have been in for months and not seen anything of our forest. It truly is an enchanting place, even though the darkness still attempts to take over.”

She shook her head. “There will always be evil in the world,” she murmered. “And it comes in many forms, many guises.”

He glanced at her. “You speak of the dwarf.”

“Yes,” she said. “It saddens my heart to see what he has become. Dwarves are stubborn by nature, but he is lost to all reason. I fear nothing will be able to drag him back to what he once was.”

A soft snort sounded from her lover. “He has always been fool-hardy and does not think his actions through,” he observed. “The deaths caused by his reclaiming of the Lonely Mountain have plagued my memories for years.”

“But Smaug had to be defeated eventually,” she reasoned. “I understand your thinking, and to a point I share your opinion, but the dragon could not reside there forever. The evil emanating from the mountain was tangible.”

He nodded with a sigh. “Yet there are many ways to look at it. So many people died on all sides, but maybe that was the eventual outcome no matter what route was pursued.” He glanced at her again. “Do you wish to stop and rest?”

“No, but I really could do with something to drink,” she said.

“I had one of the servants squeeze some fresh orange juice for you,” he answered with a smile, digging into the deep pocket of the bag which was attached to his saddle. He produced a wine bottle, filled to the top with orange juice, and her eyes lit up.

“Oh my…thankyou!” she gasped in delight as she took it from him. “You know me far too well, far too soon.”

He laughed. “I watch everything around me, _Melleth nin._ I see everything, I absorb everything.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Everything?” she repeated, taking a drink.

His eyes sparkled. “Everything,” he assured her. His soldiers had fallen back a little, giving them privacy to talk. “I know _exactly_ where to lick in between your legs to make you scream. I know you have a really sensitive area on the left side of your neck. I know that your eyes light up when you see that menace of a horse you have taken under your wing. I know that your left nipple is more sensitive to my mouth than the right. I know that you prefer to wander the palace under the cover of darkness rather than during daylight. I know that you have a weakness for the cheese that the cook produces. I know-“

“Alright, you notice things,” she laughed, her cheeks turning pink at the intimate things he had mentioned. Damn…was she that transparent?!

“I notice things only a lover would notice,” he replied to her silent question, making her wonder if he could read her mind. Ice blue eyes caught hers, and she felt an immediate pang of need between her thighs. He shrugged nonchalantly. “I am observant.”

“Well, I know that your left ear is more sensitive than your right,” she returned. “And you just _love_ it when I run my nails down your back. I know you prefer red wine to white, and you would rather wear grey over any other colour.”

He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “I agree. You too are observant.”

She finished drinking from the bottle and returned it to him, following the container as he lifted it to his mouth and swallowed the rest. Blinking, she turned away and concentrated on where they were going, aware of his knowing smirk at her side. “How much further?” she asked.

“Maybe a little less than an hour,” he replied. “Are you alright? We can stop if you need to rest, or are uncomfortable. You have not been on horseback for such a time recently.”

“No, I am fine,” she said. “To tell you the truth, I am really enjoying this.”

“I know, I can feel your joy,” he told her, and she smiled. “And it pleases me.”

They continued to talk between themselves as they progressed, and at various parts of their journey, Thranduil eased his horse in front to guide her through narrow areas. She took the time to appreciate the width of his shoulders, the strong lines of his back, the length of hair that cascaded down to his waist. Wondering if he was aware of the effect he had on her, she smiled to herself and remained silent in her lustful appreciation.

Upon arriving at their destination, he dismounted and reached up to help her from her horse. The patrol point lay just ahead through the trees, and she glanced around as he set her on her feet, keeping her hands on his upper arms.

“Thranduil…something does not feel right,” she said quietly, her blue eyes darting around their surroundings. “This feels…I do not know… _wrong?_ ”

He studied her. “In what way, my love?”

“I can sense darkness, deceit, amongst other things,” she replied as she stepped around him. Her hand slid down to clasp his, her fingers tightening around his. “Please stay with me.”

“I would not leave you,” he assured her, distress in his eyes at the thought that she had even considered it.

“No, I mean please stay at my side,” she said over her shoulder. “I do not like this feeling, it is scaring me.”

He turned his head, shouting for the guards who had caught up with them. They quickly dismounted and hurried to them. He ordered them to go before them, and to be prepared. The guards stepped through the foliage, swords drawn. Thranduil and Katalia followed, with some of the guards behind them.

She stopped, drawing in a breath at the scene which greeted them.

Elves lay on the ground, lifeless, blood splashed in all directions. Arrows protruded from the still forms, limbs twisted askew in positions they were never meant to be in. The smell of death was potent; the atmosphere dense and heavy.

Thranduil’s grip on her hand tightened reflexively, his eyebrows coming down in a deep scowl. “What in Middle Earth happened here..?” he murmered.

“Orcs,” she replied in a soft whisper. “This is the work of orcs. I can feel them.” Her head whipped round, her eyes scanning the dense woods around them.

“They are not close by,” he said.

“No. But they were here recently…this has happened within the last day or two.” She tugged him towards the bodies, dropping to squat next to one of them. Her free hand rested on the fallen guard’s cheek, her gaze distant. “This poor soul did not know what was happening. He died a swift death.”

He inhaled deeply. “Small mercies,” he said quietly. “Come, _Melleth nin._ I do not wish you to be exposed to this.”

She turned her blue eyes up to meet his. “You forget my past,” she reminded him gently. “I have seen worse. I have inflicted worse.”

“Nevertheless, as my betrothed I have the need to protect you,” he answered. “This is no place for you. I should not have asked you to accompany me.”

“Stop it,” she said as she rose to her feet. She slid her arm around his waist, leaning against his chest, and his arm went around her back. Their hands remained clasped together. “Is this the only check-point you intend on visiting?”

“It was, but now I will have to go further afield. I must check our other check-points also, to make sure they have not met with the same horrible fate. Our borders have been breached, and we do not know where the enemy are.”

She nodded. “I think we should clear here first, then proceed to the next one,” she suggested. The resounding thump-thump of his heart comforted her, and she felt waves of calm gradually washing over her.

“I will do what needs to be done, with the guards,” he told her, gazing down at her. “You should return to the horses.”

“No,” she answered. “I will help. And no arguments,” she added as he opened his mouth to protest.

“If that is what you wish,” he relented, his voice low. “But I do not expect-“

Gripping his hair, she tugged his head down and kissed him, cutting off his words. “We have work to do.”

He nodded as he reluctantly released his hold on her, sighing softly and assembling the guards to issue instructions. Everybody moved to carry them out with quiet efficiency, sadness in their hearts as they prepared to take the six dead elves back to their families. Katalia busied herself with carefully removing arrows and sealing wounds, to protect the feelings of their relatives when they returned. Some things they didn’t need to see.

Thranduil commanded one of the guards to return to the palace and bring back replacement patrol guards. In the meantime, he intended on leaving six of the ones who had accompanied them at the point. The guard swiftly disappeared.

Katalia sat back on her heels, having finished cleaning the last dead elf. “They are ready to go home,” she said quietly. “I have done what I can with them. Once we have them back in the palace I will do the final washing and dressing, if you allow me to.”

Ice blue eyes held hers. “It is not your responsibility to do such a task,” he said. “But if you wish, you have my consent. I know you will take care of them.”

She nodded. “If you are leaving six guards here, they could keep three of their horses, freeing up three for us to take them home,” she suggested. “Two elves per animal.”

He shook his head quickly, blinking hard. “You surprise me, my love. You have voiced the exact thoughts I was thinking.”

“Great minds think alike,” she murmered, glancing at the bodies beside her. “My heart aches for them…so much. It hurts.”

He gently rested his hand on her shoulder, an she placed hers on top of his, taking comfort from the warm flesh.

“Come, my love,” he said eventually, lowering his hand to take hers and pulling her to stand. “We must move on. Daylight is against us now.”

She watched in silence as he carefully lifted each elf, placing them over the horses’ backs with such care and tenderness, and her heart constricted. Talk of the cold, cruel, uncaring elf King came back to her as she watched him, the words hollow in her memory. This was a strong man who had feelings and hurts just like everyone else, only he shielded them more effectively than those around him. She could feel his pain, his distress, and his grief over the fallen guards through their bond. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the strong instinct which guided her to send love and strength through that bond.

When she opened her eyes again, he had gone still, and was staring at her.

A hundred unspoken words passed between them in that long look.

“Thankyou,” he whispered.

She smiled, and turned to lead the last horse over so he could place the precious cargo on it.

He settled the last elf and took a deep breath, his head lowered. He turned to the side slightly giving her a view of his profile as her hand rested gently against his back.

“Stay strong, my love,” she whispered.

He nodded, straightening back to his full height. Taking her hand, he led her over to her horse and silently lifted her up onto it, making sure she was safe and secure before mounting his own.

“We shall proceed to the next check-point,” he told the guards surrounding them as he tugged on his reins. “Keep alert.” With that, he met Katalia’s eyes briefly before turning his horse and slowly leading the group away from the doomed look-out area.

The setting sun cast shadows all around them as they made their way through the trees, and under different circumstances the ride would have been pleasing to the soul. But on this day, sadness and anguish blanketed the riders as they made their way through the forest. Not a word was spoken as they picked their way through, the only sound being the horses as they trod with care.

After a while, Katalia brought her horse from behind Thranduil and rode alongside him, still saying nothing, but reaching over and taking one of his hands firmly in hers. He glanced at her, tightening his fingers around hers, and maintained the hold as they rode onwards.


	15. Chapter 15

** CHAPTER FIFTEEN **

****

Katalia worked tirelessly through the night.

The other check-points had proven to be safe and secure, leaving only the one vulnerable. The scene of the slaughter stayed in the minds of all those who had been present, casting a dull shadow over them as they cleared the last check-in and eventually made for the palace. Nightfall had blanketed the kingdom by the time they returned, the heavy darkness playing some sort of role in hiding the sorrow in the eyes of each of them.

She remained in a separate room deep within the palace, carefully washing and cleaning each dead guard, and dressing them in their best clothing. Each elf received the same tender care, with time being taken to ensure they were presentable and ready to be viewed by their loved ones.

Thranduil had surprised her by appearing, and silently working alongside her. She hadn’t expected a King to carry out such a task, but had stayed quiet and not questioned his motives. He had accompanied her to each elf, helping her to undress them, turn them, wash them, and re-dress them. Her senses picked up the force of his will as he deliberately pushed his inner emotions aside, the struggle coming to her with strength across their bond.

They finally left the room hand-in-hand, and went through to his chambers to freshen up and change. After a quick breakfast – even though breakfast time had long passed – Thranduil sent a servant to fetch the families of the elves they had tended to. Katalia remained at his side as he spent time with each group, conveying his sympathy and assuring them he would bring those responsible to justice. She hugged mothers, wept with wives, and comforted children. She talked in low tones with each family, trying to bring words of comfort in their time of sorrow.

Thranduil observed her quietly, awed at her ability to easily step into the role that a Queen would have taken if he had one. Her gentle, loving nature brought peace to those she spoke with, her reassuring embraces and shared tears helping them come to terms with their losses.

He swallowed away the lump that appeared in his throat, acknowledging to himself that she might be a fighter and a trained killer, but she also had the empathy and care required to be a Queen. She had automatically taken on responsibilities that should not have fallen at her feet at this stage in their courtship, accepting them and dealing with them efficiently.

Not a word had been spoken between the couple since they had left the scene of death; there had been no need. They connected as a united front and worked through what had to be done, content with each other’s presence and support.

She finally turned as the last family gave their heartfelt thanks before leaving, to see her lover walking away down the long corridor. He obviously needed time alone, and she closed the door of the room behind her and went off in the opposite direction.

*****

Two hours passed.

Katalia had spent time with the children under her tuition, pushing her tiredness aside and taking them through a few short lessons. Having returned them to their parents, she stretched and yawned, wondering what had become of Thranduil. She decided to seek him out and check how he was.

She found him in the room where they had sparred against each other, practicing with one of his captains. The clash of steel against steel echoed throughout the hallways as she approached. Coming to a halt in the doorway, the room went silent.

The captain bowed to his King and stepped past him, bowing to her also as he passed.

Thranduil held his position.

He stood dressed only in a pair of tight black trousers, having removed his cloak and tunic as he had overheated during practice. His back was to her, his long hair flowing down over his shoulders. His left hand was up behind his head, the blade of his sword pressed against his spine as he had been intent on swinging it forwards, but had stopped as he felt her presence.

Her throat went dry.

Sweat covered his upper body, the contours of his strong muscles rippling as he breathed. Tall and imposing, he had never looked as much like the strong warrior that he was, as he did at that moment.

With her eyes on his profile, she stepped towards him, shutting the door as she moved. He remained as still as a statue, waiting. A soft hand touched his shoulder, trailing down the hard flesh and followed the curve of his back as she dropped it to his waist. His nostrils flared as he inhaled, a deep sensation uncurling itself within his body and waking up. Ice blue eyes watched her as she slowly circled him, coming to a stop in front of him.

His heart thudded rapidly.

Her deep blue eyes enticed him into a vortex of lust and awareness, and he went willingly. His own eyes drifted closed as she stood on her toes, pressing her lips to his, and he angled his head slightly. Her warm, soft mouth moved against his, coaxing him into opening himself to her and allowing her access. A groan rumbled up through his torso as her tongue hesitantly explored his mouth before gaining confidence and allowing her passion to flow through her action.

The sword clattered to the floor at his back as he released it, both his hands diving around her back to crush her against him. She whimpered into him at the urgency in his hold, the restrained passion, the tightly-leashed control in his touch. He needed to release it, and so did she.

Her hands flew over his flesh, desperate in her need to explore every inch of him. They lowered to the waist band of his trousers, fighting to undo them and get rid of them. He tipped his head back and let out a hiss as the fabric pooled around his feet. His erection throbbed against her stomach, impatient for her touch. She let her mouth trail hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, taking great delight at the rapid beat of his pulse under her lips. Closing her mouth over the pulse point, she sucked hard, drawing blood to the surface, and his body tightened in response. His hands quickly unfastened the trousers she wore, pushing them down impatiently along with her underwear.

She cried out and tore her mouth from his neck as one of his hands slid in between her legs, his fingers sliding effortlessly into her. He gripped her hair with his other hand, holding her still as his mouth crashed onto hers, his fingers plunging in and out of her in a rapid rhythm. She arched against him, grinding herself down onto his hand, urging him deeper.

Without breaking rhythm, he bent his knees and lowered them both to the floor, pulling her onto him so she sat astride his thighs. His fingers slid out of her and she gave a deep, throaty cry of pleasure as his hardness entered her instead, stretching her and filling her completely. She slowly ground her hips down, taking delight at the feeling of being so _invaded._ Her body adjusted and accepted his, bolts of desire arcing through her being.

His hands settled at the back of her waist, her long hair brushing the backs of his fingers as she began to move. Her blue eyes held his, and he read the love and the passion that lived in them. She removed her hands from the back of his neck and whipped her tunic up and off, and he slid his hands up her back and leaned her backwards, his soft lips tugging on her nipple in a sensual sucking motion.

Her breathing turned to deep pants, the air around them becoming too dense to inhale properly. Her nipple puckered to excruciating hardness in his mouth as his tongue flicked over it, the muscles in his lips sucking in a determined rhythm that echoed the movements of her hips. Cradling his head between her hands, she arched back further over his strong arms, gasping for breath.

He turned his attention to her other breast, the one he knew to be more sensitive. Her inner muscles tightened in a vice grip around him as he sucked and licked, his erection flexing and throbbing in silent response. She twisted and rocked in his arms and tightened her fingers in his hair.

Lifting his head, he gazed into her eyes once more, his hands gripping her hips and holding her steady as he thrust up into her. Her pupils were dilated, her mouth swollen from his kisses, her cheeks flushed with passion.

He had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.

Rolling them down onto their sides, he rolled over so she was on her back on the rug, him towering over her. Lifting her legs higher, he braced his hands flat on the floor on either side of her, and she smiled as she bent her legs up over his forearms. The position allowed him deeper penetration, and every thrust seemed to touch her soul. The heat between them burned and scorched as the flames of desire blazed hotter.

He crushed her mouth with his, his tongue demanding entrance, and taking it. Sparks of white heat shot through his body as her tongue met his and answered. Her breasts heaved against his chest as she breathed, her legs flexed against his upper arms, her hips meeting every demanding thrust.

His arms trembled in their effort in holding his weight as he pumped into her harder, deeper, faster. Her cries urged him on, her responsive body pulling him deeper and deeper into a rapid descent towards euphoria. She arched and thrashed beneath his relentless domination of her, her body telling him she was close to completion. He changed the angle of his thrusts slightly, hitting nerves and pleasure spots she had been completely unaware of, and she came apart with a scream that echoed around the room.

Wrapping his arms tightly around her wildly convulsing form, he dropped his head to her neck and let go, finding his own release deep inside her. Sweat trickled down between his shoulder blades, his body twitching and jerking in the deep spasms that rocked him to his core.

They lay entangled in each other for several minutes, both working hard to resume a normal pace of breathing, both listening to each other’s pounding heartbeats.

Thranduil eventually shifted first, propping himself onto his elbows and lowering his mouth to hers in a tender kiss. “I love you, _Melleth nin,_ ” he whispered. “I love you so much.”

“I love you even more,” she whispered back, and moved errant strands of hair from his face. “Are you alright, my love?”

He nodded as he closed his eyes. “I am sorry, I was rougher than I intended,” he said.

“Stop it,” she chided softly. “You were amazing. I discover something new each time we make love.”

He smiled, opening his eyes again and gazing into hers. “There is still so much more for you to find out about yourself,” he told her. “And each time we are together, I will help you to discover each and every thing.”

Her smile deepened.

“This is not the most comfortable place to be,” he said decidedly. He hissed as he slowly pulled out of her, his semi-hard erection not really wanting to be apart from her welcoming heat. “We should maybe consider going to bathe.”

“That sounds like quite a good idea,” she agreed, and took the hand he offered to pull herself to her feet. She groaned at the tightening of her muscles, and the ache that had settled into her lower back. Looking around for her clothing, she smiled as he stood before her with the garments already in his hands.

He slowly replaced each item, taking care and being so gentle with her as he helped her to get dressed, before tugging his own trousers back on. She lifted his forgotten sword from the floor, turning the weapon over in her hands and inspecting it before handing it to him.

“This was crafted for me before my father died,” he told her as he crossed over the floor and placed it in the stand where it belonged. “The master who made it passed shortly afterwards, caught in the wrong place, at the wrong time. You are the only other person apart from me who has ever touched this blade.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to-“

“No, no,” he interrupted, cutting her off with a dismissive flick of his hand. “It does not present a problem. It just makes me think.”

“About what?” she asked curiously.

He chewed on the inside of his mouth for a few seconds, eyeing her. “We will talk later,” he decided, reaching for her. They left the practice room and wandered into the depths of the palace towards his chambers.

*****

That night, Katalia lay on her side, sound asleep, her head resting on Thranduil’s shoulder. Her hand was placed over his heart, the heat from her touch seeping into him.

He gazed up at the dark roof above them, lost in his own thoughts, as he idly twisted strands of her hair between his fingers.

She had proven in spades how resilient she was, how strong she was at a crucial time when he really needed her without realising it, and how efficient she was at undertaking a task that should never have presented itself to her. The connection between them was growing in strength, the intensity of it taking his breath away at times. He could feel her emotions and the beat of her heart. Each time they made love the bond strengthened even more, and he wondered just how much stronger it could become.

He lowered his hand to lightly run his fingertip along the silky smooth skin of her shoulder, and she curled even closer to him in her sleep. The intoxicating scent of her shampoo drifted past him and eased itself into his tired mind. He needed her, and it hit him with an almighty force that made him open his half-closed eyes in shock.

Used to functioning alone, he swallowed as he came to the conclusion that she was a part of him, and he could never go back to being alone again. He relied on closing his feelings and emotions off from those around him, and yet Katalia had managed to burst through his defences in a single heartbeat. He had known a long time ago that he was deeply in love with her, but in the darkness that surrounded him he finally admitted to himself that it was so much more than love.

It was dependability.

It was being half of a whole.

It was his entire heart and soul aching to be with her, _needing_ her. She glowed from the inside out, and that glow seemed to intensify whenever he approached her. He could see it clearly, although he knew no other could. It was like a signal between the two lovers that only they were aware of.

He wondered if she was aware of it, and intended to ask her when the situation presented itself. Until then, he was content to hold her and drift off to join her in her sleep.

*****

“The fallen guards are to be buried very shortly,” a velvet voice said, making Katalia turn. Thranduil stood behind her, seeming slightly unsure of himself.

She frowned, wondering where his insecurity had stemmed from.

“Do you wish to attend?” he asked.

“Yes, of course I do,” she replied. “Do you not want me there?”

“That is not why I asked,” he said as he stepped towards her. “I do not want you to feel obligated.”

“I feel the need to say goodbye to them at their final resting place,” she answered, taking his hands in hers. They felt a little cool to her touch. “What is wrong, my love?”

He glanced up from their hands to meet her eyes briefly. “Nothing is wrong,” he said.

“I do not believe you,” she told him. “But I feel other things are vying for attention inside you right now, so I will push this no further.”

He pursed his full mouth, drawing her gaze to the lips that could bring her so much pleasure. “We must get through what today holds,” he said. “I promise we will talk soon. I just need to get through what faces us first.”

She nodded. “You are not facing it alone,” she reminded him as she lifted a hand to caress his cheek. He closed his eyes and turned into her gentle touch, breathing deeply through his nose.

“I know, my love,” he whispered. “I know.”

A few moments passed, and she could almost feel him digging deep within himself for strength. Stepping closer to him, she turned his head so he was facing her and softly brushed her mouth over his in the softest whisper of a kiss, transferring some of her strength over to him through the touch.

Anguish filled his ice blue eyes as he opened them, and her eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to work out what lay behind the pain.

“Shall we go?” he said, offering her his arm.

She took his arm and nodded, lifting her skirts slightly as they left his study and walked through the quiet palace, making their way to the burial of their elvish kin.


	16. Chapter 16

** CHAPTER SIXTEEN **

****

“I knew I should never have released that annoying, irritating, foul-smelling, uneducated, uncouth runt of a dwarf,” Thranduil ranted, slamming his fist onto the table. “He is forever going to be a thorn in my side!”

“Thorin the Thorn,” Legolas quipped, and quickly straightened his face as his father whipped round to glare at him.

“I object to _uneducated,_ ” Katalia said through a mouthful of peach.

Thranduil’s glare shot to her, softening as he looked at her.

She sat up on the window ledge, swinging her crossed ankles as she ate.

“I retract _uneducated,_ my love,” he said, before turning back to his son. “And do not make crass jokes at my expense.”

Legolas blinked, wisely choosing to remain quiet.

Katalia chuckled softly, drawing the King’s gaze back to her. “You could not keep him locked up forever,” she reasoned. “He is a King also. His people need him.”

“Like a dose of haemorrhoids,” he muttered under his breath, making Legolas snort in an attempt to hold in his laughter. “If you cannot control your mirth, maybe it is best you do something useful, like patrolling? Checking on the guards at the gate? Archery practice?”

“Of course, Father,” Legolas replied, bowing and backing away. He bowed and grinned at Katalia, who shook her head as she smiled in amusement.

“You are mocking me,” Thranduil grumbled as his son left the hall.

“I am not mocking you,” she replied. “I am merely lightening up a sore subject, one which you have no control over at this point in time. Let Thorin run wild, he will soon tire and turn his attention elsewhere.”

“He has taken an entire herd of deer!” he shouted, although not at her, but more through frustrated anger. “He and those imbeciles who flock to him like moths to a flame. Every one of them needs to bathe for at least a month. I shall have to order the servants to scrub the cell he occupied; it stinks.”

She leaned forwards, resting her elbows on her knees as laughter rippled through her. “You should listen to yourself,” she howled, wiping tears away. “You sound like such a…I do not know…such a… _snob!_ ”

He scowled at her as he threw himself down into his seat and crossed one leg over the other. “One does not have to be snobbish in order to keep oneself clean,” he retorted. “Did you not teach him the necessity of water and soap?!”

She hopped down from the ledge. “Do not pick at how I taught him,” she warned, pointing at him as she crossed in front of him to throw the peach stone into a waste basket. “What he chooses to do with that education as an adult is his choice. I imparted more knowledge than a dwarf would ever need to take him through his lifetime.”

Ice blue eyes glowered. “The creature still stinks,” he said determinedly. “Hopefully he will fall into a lake somewhere and emerge a little fresher.”

She shook her head. “Oh my,” she muttered. “What do you have planned for the remainder of today?”

He folded his arms, reminding her of a stubborn child. “I have to meet with a few of the Lords, regarding the families of the guards who passed away,” he replied, his tone of voice changing. “I need to make sure they are provided for, and that they do not have to leave their homes.”

“Why would they have to leave their homes?” she asked with a frown.

He sighed, clasping his hands at the back of his head. “One or two of the Lords are demanding the houses be freed up for other guards and their kin,” he explained. “Yet they are providing no solution as to where the families have to go.”

“Then boot the Lords out of their homes, and let _them_ worry about where to live,” she snorted in disgust.

He studied her for a moment, swiftly dropping his hands to his lap. “You may just have a valid point,” he murmered. “Yes. That is what I shall do.”

He leapt up from the seat, energised. She laughed in surprise as he crashed his mouth against hers in a brief, but deep kiss.

“I will come and find you later, my love,” he said over his shoulder as he left the hall.

She grinned, wondering what had come over him.

*****

Katalia paused in brushing Talagor’s tail, the sounds of angry shouts and roars meeting her ears. The horse snorted softly and turned, bumping her with his velvet nose as if to remind her that her attention was meant to be on him.

“In a minute, big boy,” she said soothingly, rubbing his neck as she passed him and crossed the stable to lean on the lower half of the door.

The shouting increased in volume.

Thranduil strode out of the palace, his cloak swirling around him as he walked. Two Lords followed hurriedly, shouting and calling after him.

His eyes met hers and she grinned as he headed over the courtyard towards her.

“I will wager this… _delu raug_ is behind this!” one of them roared.

Thranduil came to a sudden stop, fury in his eyes. He whirled around, grabbing the Lord who had spoken in a strong grip around his throat. “Did you just refer to Lady Katalia as a _hateful demon?”_ he demanded in a low growl. “Do you have a death wish, my Lord? Do you have an insatiable desire to meet the sharp edge of my sword?!” His final sentence was roared in anger as he threw the smaller elf onto his back, unsheathing his sword with a screech of steel. “Then allow me to fulfil your wish!”

He stumbled slightly as Katalia launched herself bodily onto his back, having shot out of the stable. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. “Leave it, my love. Do not do this,” she whispered in his ear. “Do not give in to your anger.”

The petrified eyes of the man on the ground stared up in horror, the point of Thranduil’s sword still far too close to his throat for comfort. He panted heavily, while the other Lord stood speechless to one side, too scared to open his mouth.

“Stay with me, _Melethron,_ ” she whispered, her mouth brushing his ear as she spoke. “Do not lose yourself in your anger and rage.”

His anger flowed freely, and she shuddered as she felt it. The waves of rage pounded viciously, and she maintained her hold on him as she waited for the storm to ease.

“Remove yourself from my sight,” he hissed eventually as he re-sheathed his weapon. The disgraced elf hurriedly picked himself up, running back to the palace with his companion hot on his heels.

Thranduil took a deep breath. “Unless you intend for me to carry you around all day my love, you can get down now,” he said over his shoulder, his tone gentle.

She slowly released her limbs, sliding down his back until her bare feet hit the ground. He turned, one eyebrow lifted in silent question.

She shook her head, aware of the crowd of guards and servants who had stopped to watch. “He is not worth the effort,” she told him. “Insults do not trouble me.”

“No one will speak about you in such a manner,” he growled. “No one.”

She lifted herself up onto her toes and kissed his soft, warm mouth. “You concern yourself with things that do not require any concern,” she decided. “The man is a goat. Forget him.”

He hummed softly as her mouth caressed his, lifting his hands to settle on her waist. The fabric of her top lifted as she slid her arms up around his shoulders, exposing the warm flesh just above her trousers, and his hands automatically drifted up to touch her.

“How can I go from being so angry to so aroused within a heartbeat?” he whispered, pulling back so he could look into her eyes. “You have bewitched me, my love.”

“I have done no such deed,” she replied with a smile. “If anything, I would suggest that you have bewitched me. I just have to catch a fleeting glimpse of you and everything inside me starts to go all warm and fluttery, and aches…”

He grunted, claiming her mouth once more. “This is not the time or the place,” he murmered against her. “Dammit…”

She giggled, pulling back and kissing his cheek.

Ice blue eyes stared into hers for a few seconds. “Come for a ride with me,” he said suddenly.

“Where?” she asked in surprise.

“Out into the forest,” he replied. “Give me a few minutes, I have something to attend to, then I will be back for you. Wait here for me.”

She blinked in astonishment as he swept away, disappearing inside the palace. What had got into him??

True to his word, he re-emerged within a couple of minutes and led his magnificent elk from the large stable that housed him. Without a word, he leapt effortlessly onto the animal’s back and extended a hand to Katalia, swinging her up to sit in front of him. She settled in the cradle of his open thighs, snug against him, her bare feet tightening around the warm flanks of the elk.

They rode through the palace gates and out over the bridge, crossing into the dense woods. She took great delight in the leafy surroundings, spotting many animals and various wildlife as they travelled.

After some time, he pulled the elk to a halt and swung himself to the ground, extending his arms to assist her. She slid down into his hold, and he smiled as he tucked her hair behind her ear, taking her hand and leading her through the undergrowth.

They came to a stop beside a beautiful pool, where she laughed excitedly and hopped over to sit on the grassy bank, swinging her feet into the cool water. He lowered himself to sit beside her.

“Are you ready to tell me what has been troubling you?” she asked.

He twisted his fingers through hers. “It is not so much troubling me…as maybe just being something which I do not understand,” he said. “I pride myself on the knowledge I have gained through the centuries, yet I find myself utterly lost at this point in time.”

“Regarding what?” she questioned.

Ice blue eyes turned to her. “Us.”

She swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Do not automatically think anything bad,” he said with a soft laugh. “It is not bad at all. It is regarding our bond; our connection.” He gazed out over the water. “It almost frightens me.”

Her eyebrows rose. “I thought the bond was a natural progression,” she said.

“It is, my love. It is the most natural thing in the world when two people are in love,” he answered. “But it is the force of it, the strength of it…I was unprepared. I confess it plagues me as I do not have the understanding I need.”

She took a deep breath. “You spoke of having a connection with Legolas’s mother,” she said. “Does that not help you in any form?”

He shook his head. “No. I am coming to realise that the bond you refer to was merely…how can I describe it…” he trailed off as he gazed around. “See that mighty tree over on the far side?”

She nodded as she looked at the tree he pointed to. It was a huge tree, and would take several elves joining hands to completely encircle the trunk. An abundance of lush green leaves rustled softly in the warm breeze.

“See the fragile stem which holds each leaf onto the branches?” he said.

“Yes.”

“That was my bond with Legolas’s mother. Now look at the trunk as it goes towards the ground. That is our bond.”

Her eyes widened, and she turned to him.

He nodded. “Yes. _That_ solid, _that_ strong,” he said.

“You speak as though it is not a good thing,” she said quietly.

“Not at all,” he assured her. “It is merely the fact that I am completely unprepared. I had no idea it would be as strong. I feel every emotion from you, I feel your very heartbeat. I do not know how much you feel…”

“I feel your emotions,” she told him. “I also feel your weaknesses, and I know when you need strength.”

He nodded. “I assumed so, when you passed strength to me just recently.” Troubled eyes turned to hers. “That is what troubles me, _Melleth nin._ ”

She frowned.

“It is I who should be giving strength to you, not the other way around,” he whispered. “My role as your lover, your husband, and your protector, is to pass to you the strength you need. Instead, I find you giving it to me.”

She smiled. “Maybe the Valar knew this when they sent me into your life,” she mused. “Thranduil, times change, traditions change, expectations change. Do not see it as a bad thing, look at it as a progression of sorts. Maybe this is an added extra to our union, maybe it was always meant to be like this.”

Silence settled over them for a few minutes.

“I realised something while you were sleeping,” he said quietly, and turned to look at her again. “This is not just love between us. This is something much more, such words to describe it are lost to me. It is almost as though I _need_ you, like I cannot exist without you. That is something new for me, and it is difficult to understand as I am so used to being alone.”

She traced a pattern on the back of his hand with her thumb. “Does it trouble you?”

“No,” he replied truthfully. “I am slowly getting used to it. I have heard of partners completely and totally needing each other, but truthfully I never thought it was real until now. This is something I have never experienced, never dreamt would happen. I know without a shadow of a doubt that if anything happened to you, I would fade and die fast.”

She frowned. “You are stronger than that,” she told him.

He shook his head. “No, my love. Not anymore. Your presence in my life has changed that. My soul depends entirely on you.”

She inhaled deeply, considering his words. “Well I have no intention of allowing anything to happen to me,” she stated. “So therefore, nothing will happen to you either.”

He smiled. “Did you know that you have a glow?”

“No,” she laughed. “Do I?”

“Yes,” he replied. “I think I am the only one who can see it. Any time I approach you, the glow becomes brighter. It is truly an amazing thing to see.”

She laughed. “I was unaware of it,” she said. “Although I do not have to turn around to know when you are close by, I can feel you. I can be in a crowded hall and yet I instinctively know when you enter the crowd.”

“Perhaps only the females have the ability to glow,” he said. He glanced at her. “You know I love you beyond anything in this world,” he said softly.

“As I love you even more,” she replied, her tone matching his. “I never expected this to happen, I was not looking to find a mate. Yet somehow you found me, and changed my perception of life.”

“Dare I say it – that damned dwarf has his uses,” he said with a chuckle. “Without his stubborn, pig-headedness, we would not have what we have between us today. If he had freely given me what I asked, you would not have come seeking me.”

Her smile widened. “They say your path is written in the stars,” she said, turning her gaze up to the cloudless blue sky above them. “Whatever is meant to be will happen. Perhaps what you say is true; Thorin had to be the way he is so we could find each other.”

He smirked. “You sought me out,” he accused playfully.

“And you propositioned me,” she shot back with a laugh. “What was it you said to me? _With your beauty, I am almost tempted.._?”

He laughed heartily, his cheeks turning pink. “Oh you have no idea how tempted I was,” he told her. “I was actually disappointed that you had _not_ come to me with the plan to seduce me. I wanted to take you right then and there in my tent. I wanted to ravish you, to give you the pleasure your body so desperately needed, to completely lose myself in you…dammit, I am becoming uncomfortable.” He frowned as he fidgeted on the grass, making her roar with laughter.

“Such filthy thoughts from such a high-ranking being,” she joked.

“I am flesh and blood, my heart beats and my loins ache like everyone else’s,” he said dryly. His eyes sparkled. “I have ordered something to be carried out in our absence.”

“What?” she asked.

He gazed deep into the blue eyes that mesmerised him. “I have arranged for your things to be moved into my chambers,” he said softly. “They are no longer mine. They are ours.”

She leaned towards him and touched her lips to his, forcing his apart and pushing her tongue inside in a deep, passionate kiss. “Is that why you wanted to bring me out here?” she smiled, pulling back a little.

“Yes. I wanted you out of the way for a while, in case you protested. I thought I could talk you into staying with me once everything had been moved,” he admitted.

She leaned her forehead against his. “You have an unseen gift for tapping into a little corner of insecurity from time to time,” she murmered. “I can see it. Believe in yourself and the love I have for you. I want to be at your side, and I am honoured that you wish me to share your private space.”

He twisted his head and kissed her. “I wish to share everything with you,” he whispered. “Absolutely everything.”


	17. Chapter 17

** CHAPTER SEVENTEEN **

****

The couple travelled back to the palace, enjoying each other’s company and the ride back on the amazing beast who silently carried them. Katalia had seen the elk before but had never ridden him, so she thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

Upon arriving back in the courtyard, Thranduil muttered something about useless servants as they found a wagon load of produce had tipped and vegetables were scattered in all directions. Heaving a heartfelt sigh of resignation, he slid from the elk and turned his back to her.

“I shall have to carry you through this mess, as you prefer charging around everywhere in your bare feet so much,” he said dryly.

She laughed, sliding down onto his back and locking her arms and legs around his body. His arms hooked underneath her knees and he clasped his hands together, carrying her effortlessly across to the doors. Guards struggled to hide their amusement at the sight of their majestic King giving his loved one a piggy-back, and wisely didn’t comment.

Katalia used it as another excuse to be in his hold, and lovingly snuggled her head against his as he walked.

“You are enjoying this far too much, my love,” he said as they entered the vast cavern.

“Yes,” she admitted with a laugh. “I am.”

“I can see you talking me into being your personal horse for the day,” he muttered, and felt the vibrations of her laugh rumble through his back. “Although I have to say…if I were to carry you around like this, I would much prefer you to be at the front of me with your legs around me.”

“Sweet-talker,” she laughed, pressing a kiss to his neck before sliding down his back. Dropping onto the floor with a soft thud, she rubbed her hands together. “I really should go and spend some time with Talagor; I have not been tending to him as much these last few days.”

He grunted, pulling her flush against him. “I wish you would ride me the way you ride that god-forsaken animal,” he muttered, before crushing his mouth to hers. “I want to feel your thighs tighten around me…”

She returned his kiss, murmering in pleasure as she pulled back. “I have to go a place,” she said. “And you have King things to contend with.”

He grumbled something out of her range of hearing, slowly sliding his hands from her body. “There are other things I rather wish to-“ he started.

“No,” she laughed, holding one finger to his lips, which he kissed. “We have to do our chores as it were, first. Then we can play.”

He turned from her, trying to hide his smirk, but she saw it anyway, and chuckled as she made her way towards the toilet facilities.

A few minutes later, she emerged and headed through the palace with the intention of going to spend time with Talagor. A passing servant stopped her.

“My Lady,” he said, bowing before her. “A messenger arrived not an hour past with a package for you.”

“For me?” she parroted, surprised.

“Yes, my Lady,” he replied, and handed her an old wooden box.

She frowned at it as he departed, wondering who had sent it. Untying the red ribbon wrapped around it, she opened the lid.

And screamed.

*****

Thranduil’s head shot up.

He had felt an intense burst of terror and fear a split second before Katalia’s blood-curdling scream reached his ears. Bounding out of his seat, he flew from his study and pounded through the palace. Fear pulsed through him, but he knew it was not his own. He knew he was feeling his lover’s fear.

He rounded a corner and spotted her at the far end of the corridor, on her knees on the stone floor. As he approached her at speed, he dropped to his knees and skidded to a halt next to her, closing both arms tightly around her. His gaze fell to what she held in her hands.

A plain wooden box.

A dead rat.

The guts slashed, innards and dried blood spilling out on the bottom of the container.

A small piece of parchment nailed to the inside of the lid.

_This is what happens to rats._

He reached down and grabbed it from her shaking hands, slamming the lid closed and tossing it angrily along the hallway, then replaced his arm around her again.

“Breathe, _Melleth nin,_ ” he coaxed.

Her whole body trembled violently in his arms.

“Breathe with me,” he repeated.

Tauriel and a guard appeared at the far end of the long corridor, running towards them.

“My Lord, my Lady!” Tauriel gasped. “What happened?”

Thranduil nodded his head in the direction of the wooden box. “Oakenshield has decided to send a message,” he snarled. “Get rid of it. And find the messenger who brought the vile thing!”

“Of course, my Lord,” she said, swiftly moving to lift the box. She gasped as she looked inside, turning horrified eyes to the couple on the floor. “I will find out who brought this,” she promised, and instructed the guard to follow her with a tilt of her head.

He turned his attention to Katalia, who still shook uncontrollably. “You are safe, my love,” he whispered as he rested his cheek against the top of her head. “Just breathe slowly, and relax, my darling. I am here with you.”

She shuddered, gasping in a deep breath.

“Slowly,” he said gently. “Breathe slowly.” His hands rubbed her arms as he held her, anger flowing through him. How _dare_ the dwarf attempt to intimidate her like this?!

He remained in position, holding her tightly, willing peace and calmness into her through their bond. She had nothing to fear, and he closed his eyes as he pushed that feeling towards her soul.

Eventually she stopped shaking and slumped against him. “He is never going to give up,” she whispered, her soft words broken.

“He will,” he vowed with determination. “I will make sure of it.”

She shook her head, pushing herself away from him slightly. “He will not. He is desperate for those gems, and he will not stop.”

Thranduil took a deep breath. “Then I will stop him.”

She shook her head, wiping a stray tear away. “He has a future, a purpose.”

“That purpose is not to terrify my wife,” he told her. “And I will not stand for it. It is time I moved this up a notch. I shall retaliate and send him a message of my own.”

She lifted her eyes to his, bright with unshed tears. “Please do not,” she begged in a low whisper. “Do not drop to his standards, my love. Do not let him entice you into his sordid, evil game. That is what he wants. He is expecting you to retaliate in some way.”

“Am I to stand back and do nothing while he frightens you?” he asked, not expecting a reply. “While he does horrible things like this to scare the happiness from you? I think not.”

“If you react, you are playing right into his hands,” she said. “Strategy is his passion, it is what he does.”

Ice blue eyes stared into hers, but his mind was elsewhere. “We shall see if he can keep up with what I choose to respond with,” he said.

Her hands clutched at the fabric of his tunic. “Please listen to me,” she pleaded.

Several seconds passed, and he realised that she needed him, not to have him rampaging off somewhere in search of revenge. With a deep sigh, he nodded. “Alright, my love,” he said quietly. “Come. You need some rest.”

She stubbornly shook her head. “We have things that need to be done,” she insisted, still wiping an odd tear away. “Important things.”

“Things that are not so important that they cannot wait,” he told her, and she opened her mouth to protest.

Lifting one hand and gently running his fingertips down her face, he murmered soft words in Sindarin, and within seconds she leaned fully against him, in a deep sleep.

He lifted her up in his arms and stood, turning and heading in the direction of their chambers.

“Do not allow anyone to disturb us,” he ordered the pair of guards on duty at the entrance to the royal wing. “No-one, is that clear?”

“Yes, my Lord,” they replied, almost in perfect unison as they bowed.

He carried her inside the bedroom and kicked the door closed. Laying her on the bed, he gently undressed her and himself, curled in at her back and pulled the warm blankets over them both.

He smiled against her hair.

Elf enchantments had their uses.

*****

Katalia woke up with a gasp, struggling against the iron grip that held her down.

“You are safe, _Melleth nin,_ ” Thranduil’s sleepy voice said next to her, and she realised the restraint was only his warm arm over her body.

She fell back against the pillows, panting.

His arm tightened over her. “Relax, my love,” he murmered. “You have nothing to fear.”

Swallowing, she ran a hand over her face. “I did not dream it, did I?” she asked.

He slowly propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at her. “No.”

She gazed up into the ice blue eyes that promised safety and love. “What did you do to me?” she whispered.

He gave her a gentle smile. “I put you to sleep,” he replied. “You were too traumatised, _Melleth nin._ I wanted you to close off from it and put it out of your mind. The only way I knew how was to put you to sleep.”

“Thankyou,” she said as she rested her hand on his warm chest. She glanced over his shoulder at the large window behind him. “How long was I sleeping?”

“All night,” he replied, laughing as her eyes widened in alarm. “You needed to. A sleep enchantment is very powerful, and I ordered no disturbances.”

“I had so many things to take care of,” she sighed. “The children, Talagon-“

“You can deal with them today, if you feel up to it,” he interrupted. “If you do not, then that is not an issue. Things can wait.”

“I am fine,” she said as she pushed herself into a sitting position.

He gently kissed her bare shoulder. “I will protect you, my love,” he promised. “With my life.” His blue eyes held hers.

“I love you,” she replied with an almost sad smile, and kissed his soft pink mouth.

He watched her as she slid away and got out of bed, feeling the torment that flowed through her at the horrible act Thorin had carried out. If he was being honest with himself, it had set him back a step or two in his mind. He hadn’t had the fright that Katalia had, but it had still shocked him.

“I have some meetings to attend today,” he said, following her out of bed and crossing the room. Standing side by side at the washbasin, they freshened up and got dressed. “Are you going to give the youngsters their lessons as usual?”

“Yes,” she replied, as she pulled a lilac dress on and lifted the bodice up over her shoulders. “They need the routine of regular teaching. Would you button me up, please?”

“Of course,” he answered, gently turning her shoulders so her back was facing him. Clenching his teeth and ignoring the stirring in between his legs at the smooth exposed flesh of her back, he fastened the buttons. He had awoken through the night with a throbbing, rock-hard erection and the insatiable urge to take her, but he knew she needed the sleep he had given her and had fought his desire and kept his hands and his yearnings to himself.

“Thankyou,” she said, turning to him with a smile. “I have no doubt I shall see you at some point through the course of the day.”

“Indeed you shall,” he promised. “Do you have time for breakfast?”

She narrowed her eyes playfully. “I do if you do,” she replied.

“Then I shall make sure I do,” he quipped, and ushered her before him towards the doorway with a grin.

*****

His robes swirled around his calves as he paced in agitation. “I want _nothing_ to reach Lady Katalia,” he commanded. “And I mean absolutely nothing. Any letters, packages, gifts, anything…must come to me first. Under no circumstances do they go to her.”

“Yes, my Lord,” one of the guards replied immediately.

Legolas nodded in agreement. “Does she know you are planning on intercepting everything?” he asked.

Thranduil took a deep breath. “No. She does not.”

Those gathered exchanged glances.

“I wish to protect her from the evil that has taken over the dwarf,” he said. “She has been through enough and this nonsense he has begun to play out is not good for her. She was a nervous wreck after that damned box was delivered yesterday.”

“My Lord, I apologise for what happened,” Tauriel said, lowering her head. “None of us knew there was something so horrific inside. I myself was not aware anything had even come for Lady Katalia.”

“The blame is not yours, Tauriel,” he replied in a gentle tone. “But now we are aware of what he is capable of, the lengths he will go to in an attempt to scare her. I will not allow him that power over her.”

“Be assured, nothing further will get through,” Legolas said with determination. “This dragon-sickness has a lot to answer for. The dwarf I remember was warped when he first took over the mountain, but he appeared to go back to his former self.”

“Now it seems like it has come back with a vengeance,” Tauriel said. “I myself do not remember him being as evil and dark. Selfish maybe, but not evil.”

Thranduil shrugged, still walking up and down before the select members of his guard and  messengers that he had summoned. “Who can say what depths a person will sink to when they are ruled and driven by greed?” he pondered. “But it stops, and it stops now. Lady Katalia is going to be my wife in but a matter of time, and even now I regard her as my wife. I will do whatever it takes to keep this horror from her.”

“And we will aid you in every way possible,” Legolas said, his eyes holding his father’s in a solemn vow.

“Did you track down the messenger who brought it?” the King asked, halting in his pacing.

“Yes, my Lord,” Tauriel answered. “The guard who gave it to Lady Katalia was given the box by a messenger of ours at the gate. He said it had been passed to him from one of the border patrols, and when questioned, he told me that a dwarf had approached him during his patrols and presented it.”

Thranduil frowned. “It could have been any one of the miserable, filthy creatures,” he remarked. “There is no way of knowing if he or she was even aware of what they carried or the significance of it.”

A silence filled the room.

“Do you have any news from the border patrols on the attack at the check-point?” he asked, changing the subject.

The meeting steered away from Katalia’s delivery.


	18. Chapter 18

** CHAPTER EIGHTEEN **

****

Thranduil sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes burned, and his head ached. Tension had stiffened the muscles along his shoulders, and his back ached. He knew his back had nothing to do with his current state of mind, it was merely his body throwing something different into the mix, probably for the fun of it.

A week had passed since the arrival of the box and the dead rat.

Every day since, a package had arrived, containing something different.

On the second day, it was a dead bird with the wings torn off.

The third, it was a decapitated rabbit.

On the fourth, a dismembered cat.

The fifth arrived with an eviscerated dog.

Thranduil was getting angrier and more distracted from his duties.

The sixth day brought with it a headless sheep, and on the most recent arrival was a young calf that had been chopped viciously into pieces.

The pounding ache in his skull had intensified with each day and each delivery. He didn’t like hiding things from Katalia, but he refused to put her under any more stress. She had put on a jovial face since the rat, but he knew within himself that it was only a front.

Deep down, she was upset.

“Will you share your troubles, my King?”

Her voice sounded like the sweetest music to his ears, and he turned to her with a smile. “I have no troubles, _Melleth nin_ ,” he replied smoothly. “Particularly whenever I am in your presence.”

She gave him a loving smile. “I know when you are lying, but I will allow it because I know of that which you lie about,” she told him. “And I know why you lie about it, so I bear no ill will.”

He frowned slightly. “What do you speak of?” he asked.

She stepped over to him, and tipped her mouth towards his for his welcome kiss. “I know about the packages that have been coming each day,” she whispered. “Why do you keep such things hidden?”

His body went rigid in shock.

Arching one eyebrow, she smiled devilishly. “You cannot keep things from me, _Melethron._ It is fruitless to try. I feel your feelings.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out.

She waited patiently.

“I only wish to protect you,” he whispered eventually. “I love you and I do not want you to worry.”

“I am stronger than I appear,” she said on a gentle sigh. “If I am honest, I had a feeling there would be more than one package.”

He frowned as he studied her. “How did you know? You have not seen the arrivals, my darling; I made sure they were only opened by myself, and then I destroyed them.”

She smiled. “People tell me things,” she told him. “I hear whispers in the hallways, I hear servants talking amongst themselves. Besides, I know when you are upset. It does not take a genius to work out why.”

His gaze lowered as he took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb along the back of it. “I have ordered that anything he sends from now on does not make it to the palace,” he said. “It is to be destroyed without being opened, on the borders.”

She nodded in understanding. “I feel you are too fraught, too stressed, and this pains me,” she said. “If you are shielding me from this nonsense, then I should be shielding you also.”

“My role in life is to look after you, to take care of you, to protect you,” he replied.

“As is mine with you,” she said back. “Do not give me this masterful nonsense; it goes both ways.”

Ice blue eyes held hers, making her heart thump in an irregular rhythm. “Sometimes I wish I could take you away from all this,” he whispered after a few moments. “Maybe we should go and visit Elrond for some time away.”

“What would that achieve?” she questioned. “Thorin would not stop just because we were somewhere else. There would only be a mountain of packages waiting when we returned. He will get bored through time, I think. He does not have the patience or the endurance, and as long as we do not retaliate – and by _we,_ I mean _you_ – he will tire and move on.” She turned from him and walked away at a leisurely pace, knowing he would follow.

“You seem convinced that I will retaliate,” he said as he walked behind her through the doorway.

She grinned over her shoulder. “Were you not the one who was vowing revenge?” she teased.

He walked level with her and took her hand, wrapping his fingers through hers and tightening the grip. “If you remember correctly, I chose to give in to you – as I always seem to do lately – and said I would not exact my revenge.”

They turned the corner and walked along the narrow bridge crossing the stream that gurgled and flowed through the vast cavern, fed by the waterfall on the other side. He had to release her hand and walk behind her for them to cross, and placed a hand on her waist instead.

“And I should hope you have kept to your word,” she said.

“I will never lie to you or tell you untruths,” he promised her. “And I will never go back on my word. I have not, and I will not, do anything in retribution. You have my oath.”

“I believe you,” she said, stopping and resting her forearms on the handrail of the bridge as she gazed down into the flowing water below them.

He stood slightly behind her, both hands on her shoulders. “Sometimes I wonder if having the gems back in my possession is worth all this,” he murmered.

She looked at him sharply over her shoulder. “Those gems belong to you,” she said. “Their rightful place is here, in these halls, not stuffed away in a cold mountain in Erebor. You know this. I took a huge risk, and almost paid for it with my life. And shall I tell you something?” She turned to face him, his hands dropping to rest on her waist. “I would do it again. If it was not for those gems, you would not be in my life. I would never have met you or had the opportunity to share your life.”

A lump appeared in his throat at her words and their deep meaning. “We would have found a way to be together, my love,” he said softly. “The Valar sent you to me for a reason. Even if you had not come to me that night, we would still have found each other.” He trailed the back of his knuckles down her cheek tenderly as he spoke.

She smiled, leaning towards him and kissing him gently. “I would like to think so,” she murmered. “I want you to do something for me.”

“Anything,” he said immediately, chasing her mouth for another kiss.

“Let go of your worry and tension,” she said, both hands against his cheeks as she made him hold still and look at her. “I do not like for you to have so much pain.”

He nodded slowly. “I will try,” he promised. “Sometimes I forget that you can feel what I feel.”

“I would not have it any other way,” she told him. Honesty radiated from her blue eyes.

He took a deep breath in through his nose, smiling at her. “I love you so much, _Melleth nin,_ and I cannot wait to make you my wife.”

She returned his smile, closing her eyes as he brushed his lips against hers.

*****

Darkness had fallen over the Woodland realm, bringing a sense of peace with it.

Katalia and Thranduil were strolling through the palace hand in hand, talking in low tones about their day.

“I have a suggestion,” he said suddenly. “Will you go for a walk with me?”

“Of course,” she replied. “Where are we going?”

“I wish to show you something,” he told her. “Something beautiful.”

“Sounds intriguing,” she said. “Lead the way.”

They left the cosiness of the palace and wandered out across the grounds.

“You do not know of this way out,” he told her. “Promise me you will never use it. The only reason I show you it now is because I do not want the guards to be aware that we have left the grounds. Please promise me.”

“I promise,” she said. “Where are we going?”

He smiled down at her. “Wait and see.”

The trees of the forest folded comfortingly around them as they went into the woods. Even though the darkness was intense, never once did Thranduil stumble. His inner sense guided him in the direction he wanted to go, and Katalia kept hold of his hand as he led her onwards.

After walking for a while, they came to a halt.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

She complied, unable to stop the excited grin that spread over her face.

Strong but gentle hands gripped her shoulders and turned her. “Now open them.”

She did, and gasped. They stood high up in a clearing, the ground falling away just a few feet in front of them. Below, the heart of the forest spread out for miles, lit up by the radiance of the full moon. Above them, millions of stars sparkled like diamonds in the velvet blackness of the sky. The breeze that gently toyed with the ends of her long hair was warm, kissing her bare arms with a soft whisper of a caress. Forest scents drifted up to meet her, fresh and potent. The atmosphere held an almost magical quality.

“This is beautiful,” she murmered, leaning back against Thranduil, whose arms folded around her abdomen as he rested his chin on her shoulder. “It is so serene, so peaceful.”

He smiled. “This is what the Woodland realm is all about,” he replied. “Peace. Contentment. Growth. I have toiled for centuries to keep it like this, fighting against the darkness which rolls over the lands all around.”

She rested her hands on his arms, absorbing the heat that radiated from him. “It is something to be truly proud of,” she told him. “Forget what others say about the sickness that lies in these woods – time will heal it. I know that as much as I know my own name.”

“I truly hope so,” he said on a soft sigh. “I miss the days when the forest was pure and untouched by evil. Now sometimes I question myself, wondering is it all worth the fight that goes on infinitely.”

“Yes, it is. Look at everyone who resides under your rule, everyone who has been here for centuries and know no other home. They bring strength to the lands, they bring love,” she said. “They need the safety and security that you and the forest provide. It is all they know, it is what they live for.”

Neither of them spoke for a while.

“How did you manage all those years away from nature?” he asked suddenly. They still stood in the same position, content in each other’s hold.

She took a deep breath. “I had an obligation to a motherless child,” she replied, having considered her reply. “My own feelings did not really come into it. I made a promise to Thrain that I would do the best I could for Thorin, and I stayed true to that. I devoted everything I had to bringing him to adulthood, and did everything in my power to help him become a decent person. But somehow I failed.”

“You did not fail, my love,” he whispered. “He fell under the spell of greed, woven by the dragon before him. Do not blame yourself. You could not have prevented this, only he could have.”

“He is lost,” she murmered, a sad tone in her words. “I do not think he will ever go back to who he was. He was never so evil, so vicious…he used to be quite kind and funny. He had a heart.”

Thranduil kissed her neck. “I feel your anguish,” he said. “But it is not yours to carry.”

She rubbed her thumbs over the warm skin on the back of his hands. “It is impossible _not_ to wonder if there was something I could have and should have done differently,” she said. She turned in his arms. “But now I have realised that perhaps everything I did, every choice I made, every single thing I gave up has led me here, to you.”

His eyes sparkled in the moonlight as he smiled. “Perhaps. Maybe your destiny was already written so that you would end up here on this night, in my arms, in the most beautiful place in Middle Earth, planning to be wed to a cold, obnoxious King who insulted you in the worst way possible when he first met you.”

She laughed. “You know I shall never let you forget that?” she teased.

“How could I ever forget it?” he drawled as he rolled his eyes. “I accused you of trying to seduce me, and you accused me of bedding everything with a pulse and having a hundred different diseases as a result.”

Her laughter grew. “You asked for that.”

“I did,” he said softly, lifting his hand to touch her cheek. “And how I wish you _had_ tried to seduce me. I would have allowed you, and reciprocated, without a shadow of a doubt. You had already burned yourself into my soul, and were showing no signs of retreating.”

She gazed up at him, mesmerised as always by his stunningly handsome features.

“I saw you earlier that day when I gave the dwarf his choice,” he explained. “I saw you sitting on the rock, just observing. I burned to know who you were, what your connection to that despicable little cretin was.”

She grinned. “Your dirty mind conjured up alsorts of nonsense.”

He shrugged apologetically. “I was wrong,” he admitted. “I never for one second thought that you were untouched…you have no idea how much of a shock that was to me, when you told me the first night we spent together.” He shook his head. “I almost could not believe it. He had someone so beautiful, so captivating, and he never…”

“I would never have allowed him,” she said dryly. “Small people are not my type. I prefer tall…handsome…long hair…ice blue eyes that I can drown in…a mouth that brings me so much pleasure…” Her lips tilted up to meet his as she drifted off, and she hummed in pleasure as his soft flesh caressed hers in a sensual kiss. His arms crossed over her back and pulled her tighter against his body, sparks exploding to life in awareness of her soft curves pressing against him.

“I shall tell you something,” he whispered, as they slowly pulled apart. “Even if you had been Oakenshield’s lover in the past, it would not have mattered to me. I fell so deeply in love with you, nothing would have mattered. I would still have done everything in my power to make you my lover, my wife, my Queen.”

She smiled, closing her eyes and leaning her forehead just below his throat. “I did not want to give myself to someone who would not be worth investing my heart in,” she replied. She looked back up at him. “You are the one my heart beats for.”

“My heart has been beating for you for centuries,” he whispered as he closed the gap between them. “And it always shall.”


	19. Chapter 19

** CHAPTER NINETEEN **

****

Thranduil stormed into his study, slamming the door behind him and planting his fists on his hips as he came to a stop. “What is so urgent that I had to forsake my wife and attend?” he demanded.

“My Lord, Lady Katalia is not-“

“If you wish to keep your head on your shoulders, I strongly suggest you keep that thought where it is. In your mind,” Thranduil interrupted angrily.

The adviser lowered his head in apology. “I apologise, my Lord,” he said quietly. “There is some discontent in the realm you should be aware of.”

Thranduil turned as Legolas entered the room.

“You wished to see me, Ardas?” he questioned the adviser, closing the door behind him and taking his place beside his father.

“Yes,” the Lord replied. “Are you aware of the unrest here within the palace?”

Baby blue eyes met ice blue ones in uncertainty.

“No, no more than the usual unrest,” he replied. “Worry about orcs, trolls, wargs, the spiders…nothing else.”

Ardas sighed. “Some of the _inhabitants_ are unhappy about the forthcoming royal marriage,” he said.

Thranduil rolled his eyes. “And that was so important for you to interrupt me? Why does this trouble you? People will always have an opinion; it matters none to me.”

“But my Lord, there are a few who say Lady Katalia only returned the gems of Lasgalen to lure you,” he protested. “They think she has other motives.”

“Like what?” the King snapped. “Sometimes I ask myself if I rule over a land of mature, fully-grown elves or a legion of children.”

“I have tried placating them,” Ardas told him. “I fear they will not listen to reason.”

“And what do you think they will do?” Thranduil sneered. “Leave the realm? Good. Ensure they are escorted to the borders if that is their wish. I do not care.”

Legolas frowned. “The only unrest I have noticed was when Lord Dulian’s wife made a scene during one of the meetings,” he said. “Other than that, I have noticed nothing that would raise any concerns.”

Ardas shook his head sadly. “I fear the royal wedding might face some disruption,” he said.

Thranduil huffed impatiently. “I had the opportunity just recently to marry Lady Katalia, on my own, without this nonsense and ridiculous business. I chose not to, because my subjects are entitled to bear witness to a royal marriage. Especially one such as this, which has been created and blessed by unseen forces, not an arranged sham of a unity.”

The Lord’s eyebrows rose in shock. “You took the sacred vows in the forest, under the stars?” he gasped. “My Lord King – once taken, they cannot be ignored or reversed. Lady Katalia _is_ your wife.”

He groaned in frustration. “Clean those ears out, you challenged being,” he hissed. “I said I _had_ the opportunity, and I chose _not_ to wed her that night. If people listened to what is being said rather than what they _think,_ maybe their own lives would be much easier.”

“Maybe you should have married her given that opportunity,” Legolas said quietly. “I wish for your happiness Father, and I do not take kindly to others interfering and posing problems.”

His father snorted. “Let them bring their woes,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I do not understand what their problem is. Lady Katalia is a gentle, loving person, who has supported me in many ways since her arrival, and supported others during times of grief. Do they forget that? Does that not count for anything? Does my happiness, my choice not count for anything?” His voice rose as his anger started to boil over. “This is _my_ life, and I shall spend it with whomever I please. I have made my choice.”

Outside the door, Katalia leaned against the wood, her arms folded as his angry tirade filtered through.

“And the only person whose blessing means anything to me is my son’s!” he thundered. “Nobody else’s.”

“You have my blessing, Father,” Legolas said, touching his arm. “I am truly happy for you, and I know Katalia will make you so happy. That is all I want. She has given you something I never thought I would ever see again. Peace and contentment. And that means more to me than anything in the world. She will always have my respect, devotion, and loyalty, and I will go to the ends of the earth to protect her and keep her safe.”

Thranduil swallowed, his emotions changing. He nodded, casting his eyes downwards. “Thankyou, my child,” he said softly.

Legolas smiled, and turned back to Ardas. “So who is causing you strife over this?” he demanded. “I suggest they are brought before the King, and given the chance to air their opinions.”

The Lord shrugged. “A select handful of the guards,” he replied. “I am hearing alsorts of muttering and gossiping as I travel through the palace. A lot of it does not concern me, however some troubles me.”

“In what way?” Thranduil scowled, his annoyance returning.

Outside the door, Katalia changed position, crossing one ankle over the other.

“One of the guards suspects that Lady Katalia is in some agreement with Thorin Oakenshield, and that when she is wed to you, you will be in grave danger. He suspects she will take over the throne and bring him into Mirkwood. As a ruler.”

Thranduil’s fist crashed against the wall beside him as his temper exploded. “I will have his head!” he roared. “How _dare_ he?”

“My Lord, it is merely one guard’s thoughts,” Ardas protested, holding his hands up before him in a peaceful gesture.

Thranduil was not to be placated. “Bring him to me!” he ordered. “I will put a stop to this nonsense once and for all. I will not tolerate this!”

Legolas sighed. “People will talk,” he said quietly. “There will be an amount of jealousy, fuelled by the elleths who have sought your attention and failed. This I know to be true.”

His father glared at him. “Then they too will be punished,” he hissed. “Lady Katalia will be their Queen, no matter if they approve or not! I do not need their blessings, I will take whomever I choose to be my wife.”

“I understand,” his son replied. “You know that everything you do comes under scrutiny. Myself also, but not to the same extent.”

Thranduil huffed in annoyance, stalking over to the window and gazing out, his arms folded over his chest. “In time, all foul things come forth,” he murmered.

Legolas smiled, remembering the last time he had uttered those words. “And they will fade through time,” he said in reply. “I would not worry too much Father; people thrive on gossip and malicious rumours. They have nothing better to contend themselves with.”

“Then maybe they do not have enough to occupy their shrivelled little minds with,” Thranduil decided, turning from the window. “They are about to find their workload increased. We shall see if _that_ leaves them time to gossip and create mindless notions.” His icy glare turned to his adviser. “Bring me that guard.”

Ardas nodded and bowed as he left the room hastily.

Katalia deftly stepped to the side, and he swept past, unaware of her presence.

Thranduil’s eyes met those of his son. “Your blessing means everything to me,” he said quietly. “I understand it must be difficult for you.”

“Not at all,” Legolas answered. “You need to be happy, and you have not been for such a long time. I cannot remember when I last saw you like this, if ever. You need Katalia, and she needs you. Do not put any stock into what these imbeciles are saying. Their opinions mean nothing.”

“I do not want Katalia to be unhappy, or concerned,” Thranduil sighed. “She has lived her life in a selfless manner, putting others first and taking nothing for herself. I intend to change that, Legolas. I intend to make sure she has everything she could ever need or want.”

His son grinned. “I have the feeling that just being in the same room as you already brings her all she could ever need or want,” he said softly. “I see magic between you, a strength that I have seldom bore witness to before. You need each other.”

“I need her,” he whispered. “And I will not allow anyone to take her from me.” His voice gained strength in his determination. “There is nothing I would not do for her, nothing I would deny her.”

“I am certain she is aware of this,” Legolas replied. “But like I said – you are all she ever wants or needs.” He turned with a smile, leaving the room.

Again Katalia stepped backwards into the shadows, unseen.

*****

Pushing a piece of chicken around on her plate, Katalia’s mind was elsewhere. Thranduil watched her silently, wondering what was going through her mind.

“What troubles you, my love?” he asked eventually.

Startled eyes lifted to his. “Nothing,” she replied. “I was just thinking.”

“About?” He cut a small square of meat from his own plate, spearing it with his fork and positioning it in front of her mouth. “You have not touched your meal in at least fifteen minutes.”

She took the food, chewing thoughtfully. “I was just thinking how well the children are progressing,” she said.

Eyes that could coax her deepest, darkest secrets from her soul held hers. “You tell me untruths,” he said softly.

She closed her eyes and looked away. “I heard you this morning,” she admitted.

His thick eyebrows arched down. “When?”

“When you were in your study. I was coming to find you and heard the shouting and yelling.”

He sighed in exasperation, putting his fork down and rubbing his eyes. “You should not have heard that,” he said. “How much did you hear?”

She went back to pushing her food around. “From when you said you had the opportunity to marry me, but did not.”

He leaned back in his seat. “And you heard my reasoning?” he asked. “Katalia, we could have married each other last night in the forest, taken our vows under the stars and joined as one with the moon being our only witness. The thought did cross my mind, but I felt you deserve a full wedding fit for a Queen, and I would have done you a dishonour by denying you that.”

She nodded.

He took her hand in his. “I wanted so much to claim you as my wife last night,” he whispered. “You have no idea _how_ much. I felt I was doing the right thing by you, and my people. It was so hard to return having not gone through with it.”

She didn’t answer, just gazed at him.

“So I assume you heard the nonsense that followed?” he asked.

“Yes. That hurts me; it hurts me really deeply,” she said, shaking her head. “I have done nothing to make people question my integrity, nothing. Yet there are still some who think I have ulterior motives. Some who think I would harm you!” Tears gathered in her blue eyes.

“Katalia, my love,” he murmered, tugging her from her seat and pulling her onto his lap. He threaded the fingers of one hand through her hair, the other hand possessively on her waist. “Do not pay attention to ridiculous gossip. I will punish those behind such malicious talk. I will _not_ allow this to go any further, you have my word. Please do not let this upset you, _Melleth nin._ ”

“I fear you will have trouble if we are wed,” she said quietly.

He scowled. “What do you mean, _if_? There is no if, only when,” he said. “I will not allow my subjects to tell me what to do with my life. I have not up until now, and I shall not in the future. I am their King, their ruler, not the other way around. Trust in me.”

She nodded, her head lowered. He used the pad of his index finger and gently tipped her chin up, touching his mouth against hers in a slow, coaxing kiss, determined to draw her doubts away from her. She responded hesitantly at first, then with more feeling as she followed her instinct and the love inside her. Her hands slowly lifted to touch his cheeks as a soft whimper sounded in the back of her throat; a plea for more.

He heard her plea, and responded. Leaving trails of fire behind, his hands swept up and down her sides and her back, unfastening the buttons in the process. The fabric slid off her shoulders in a quick movement, baring her upper body to him. His hands immediately slid around and caressed her breasts, teasing her nipples to hard points.

She gasped in pleasure and leaned her head back as he kissed over her cheek towards her ear and down the side of her neck.

“I am glad we chose to eat in the privacy of our chambers,” he murmered against her skin as his mouth moved lower to her shoulder. “We will have no interruptions here…” His words trailed off as his lips closed over one nipple, sucking it deep into his mouth.

She cried out and wriggled her hips tightly against the growing hardness pressing in between her legs, her hands moving to fist in his hair. His wet tongue circled her nipple and teased the hard peak, increasing her squirming.

“Does this please you?” he whispered erotically. “Do you wish for more?”

“Yes,” she panted. “More. Much more.”

He smiled against her flesh, one hand disappearing to lift her skirts and delve into her underwear. A deep rumble vibrated up through his chest as he found her wet and ready for him.

“So aroused, so quickly,” he murmered as his fingers slid inside her. Warm, wet heat greeted him as her fluid gushed around his probing fingers. “And just for me.”

A sigh of disappointment left her lips as he removed his hand, but was quickly replaced by a groan of intense lust as he pulled his leggings down and his erection nudged her entrance. Her thighs automatically parted wider, her hips lifting slightly to allow him entry.

Tugging his mouth from her breast, he tangled one hand in her hair, holding her still as his mouth met hers in a searing hot kiss, his tongue twisting and cajoling hers into a sexual dance. They twisted and turned in an attempt to lose themselves deeper in each other, hot flesh meeting welcoming heat as they rocked together. Lustful cries and moans filled the room, gasps and pants increasing.

He gripped her hips and ground her down into his lap, determined to burrow even deeper into her than he already was. Her hands pulled hard in his hair, but he didn’t notice as his mouth plundered and ravaged hers in the building heat of their passion. The edge of the table rubbed against her back, but she ignored it. The only thing that mattered was the elf King who had complete control over her body, his thrusts becoming faster and harder as he pushed them both towards satisfaction. Everything in the room seemed to disappear in the swirling mist of time, a heavy sense of only each other making itself prominent. Hands held fast, fingers dug forcefully into flesh, and mouths crashed together as the inferno burned hotter.

Katalia felt her toes curl as the waves of impending orgasm started to creep upwards, and Thranduil felt her body changing.

“Come for me, _Melleth nin,_ ” he gasped breathlessly as he increased his strokes. “Give me everything you have. I want all of it.”

His lusty command sent her higher as the waves rose and her muscles began to tighten and tense, her breathing coming in shuddering gasps. His ice blue eyes stared deep into hers as she sunk her teeth into her lower lip.

“Let go,” he whispered, mesmerised by the goddess in his arms.

She threw her head back with a throaty scream as her body exploded, clenching tightly around him as the pleasure poured through her being, infusing itself into her soul. He tightened his arms around her as he pushed harder, his own completion just out of reach. Her clenching and quivering body pushed him towards it, her hot fluid flooding him as he thrust up into her. He yanked her forwards again and buried his face in her neck as he climaxed with a deep howl, his body jerking as he spurted in a powerful orgasm that shook him to his toes.

They leaned into each other, exhausted, sated, and panting hard. Neither of them felt strong enough to move, their bodies weakened in their state of bliss.

Eventually he placed a soft kiss on her neck, pulling back a little and tucking her hair behind her ears. “I love you,” he whispered, sincerity radiating from the depth of his hypnotic eyes. “I always have, and I always will.”

She smiled tenderly as she caressed his cheek, and he turned his head to kiss her palm. “I love you more than there are words for,” she answered him. “And I always will.”


	20. Chapter 20

** CHAPTER TWENTY **

****

Talagor tossed his head as he paced around the deserted training grounds, snorting loudly.

“Easy, boy,” Katalia murmered and stroked his neck reassuringly. “Easy.”

The horse seemed unsettled, and refused to obey her commands. Most of the time recently, he had been a perfect example of a horse who was gradually responding to her, training well and doing what she guided. This day however, he was having none of it.

“Talagor, what is the matter with you?” she sighed, exasperated. “You have not behaved like this since your first few weeks here. I wish you could talk.”

He snorted again, swiftly side-stepping, bouncing as he moved. She grumbled under her breath and tugged on his reins, tightening her thighs around his broad body.

“Dammit,” she muttered as he started to turn in circles.

Thranduil frowned as he changed direction and walked towards them. “Are you alright, my love?” he called over, signalling for one of his guards to stay close.

“Yes,” she called back. “I do not know what has got into him today; he is not doing what I ask.”

He tilted his chin up as he watched them, his eyes narrowing. “If the animal turns on her, shoot it,” he ordered the guard.

The guard silently loaded his bow.

“Do not dare!” she yelled angrily, catching a fleeting glimpse of him as Talagor continued to circle. “He is merely boisterous. Put that away.”

“Hold your position,” Thranduil ordered, his eyes never leaving her.

The animal was indeed restless, refusing to bow down to her instructions. Her lover folded his arms and continued to observe.

She eventually managed to gain control, turning him and walking him up and down the field.

Thranduil breathed a quiet sigh of relief, and motioned for the guard to disarm his bow.

A group of servants wandered past the entrance to the field, accompanied by two dogs. They were deep in conversation, and paid no attention to the pets who trotted along beside them.

One of the dogs spotted Katalia and Talagor, and took off towards them with a volley of barking and snarling. Talagor panicked and reared up on his hind legs, before breaking into a gallop. She tightened her knees and held fast on his reins with expertise, furious at the dog.

Thranduil roared something at the servants, who immediately chased after the animal. The horse sped towards Thranduil and the guard, skidding to a halt halfway and rearing up again.

He shouted in panic as she was thrown off his back, hitting the grass with a hard thud. Sprinting over to her, his heart hammered as she lay motionless, and he covered the distance within seconds.

“Katalia! Katalia!” he shouted, skidding to a stop and crashing onto the grass beside her. He gently lifted her head, inspecting her for wounds. “Katalia, my love…speak to me,” he pleaded.

The guard caught up with him, dropping to his knees beside them.

“Shoot that godforsaken beast!” the King ground out angrily. “Katalia!”

Her eyelids fluttered and she slowly opened her eyes, dazed and disorientated. “What the hell…” she murmered.

“Stay still, my darling,” he whispered, cradling her to him. “I will send for the healers.”

“I am alright,” she slurred, shoving at him so she could pull herself to a sitting position. “Honest, I am ok.” She became aware of the guard who had his arrow trained on her horse, and her eyes and mind cleared instantly. Pushing Thranduil with force, she leapt to her feet and slid her knife out of her boot, holding the point against his throat. “Retract your weapon,” she hissed.

The guard’s eyes flicked nervously to his King, back to her, then back to him again.

Thranduil sighed as he got to his feet. “Let him go,” he told him, his hand settling on Katalia’s back as she wobbled slightly. “You need a healer.”

She glared at the guard. “What I need is for people to stop trying to kill my horse,” she retorted. “He had a fright. That is no reason to end his life.” The training grounds blurred in and out of focus, and she blinked hard.

“Put your weapon away,” Thranduil said softly, and she slowly complied. He lifted her up into his arms and strode back the way he had come, ignoring her protests. “You are not in a state to walk,” he told her, talking over her. The guard followed them, rushing to open the palace door for them to pass through. “You shall see one of the healers, and depending on what they say, you will rest for the remainder of the day. No arguments.”

She gave up with a mutter of annoyance, resting her head against the comforting warmth of his shoulder. He commanded the guard to locate which servant owned the dog, and have him brought to him once he sent for them. Sweeping along the hallways, he made his way up to the healing rooms, where Katalia was poked and prodded by a healer, under his watchful scrutiny.

“Is anything broken?” he demanded impatiently as he stood with his arms folded.

“No, my Lord,” the healer replied. She glanced at her King. “My Lady has been lucky. If it were not grass, her injuries would have been worse.”

Katalia scowled, rubbing her hip. “I am fine,” she insisted. “Just my hip is sore where I landed, that is all.”

The healer examined her hip, pressing into the muscle that covered the joint. “I see no major damage,” she concluded. “Although I will wager that you will have a rather large bruise come sunrise tomorrow, my Lady.”

She grunted in response.

“Rest for today?” Thranduil questioned.

“Yes,” the healer replied. “The fact that she was knocked out concerns me, although I find no swelling or head injuries. Perhaps it was the shock force of hitting the ground with such speed that caused her to black out; if she was dizzy at being thrown off so fast, it might have assisted in rendering her unconscious.”

Again, Katalia grunted, and swung her legs off the side of the bed. “I can walk,” she told Thranduil, who stepped towards her in alarm. “I fell from a horse, not off a mountain.”

He glared at her, offering his arm for support. She accepted, and he lifted his free hand and held it over hers as they left the healing rooms after thanking the healer for attending.

“You will be the death of me,” he told her as they slowly walked along. “I worry about you constantly; having that high-spirited beast around is not helping.”

She grinned. “He was having an off day, nothing more,” she replied. “We can all have bad days.”

He sighed as he glanced down at her. “I have to meet with the owner of the dog, and he will be punished for not having control,” he told her. “Promise me you will rest in our chambers until I return.”

“If it pleases you, then I will,” she promised. “But I assure you – I am fine.”

Pushing open the door to their quarters, he ushered her in before him and led her towards the bed. “Please rest,” he said pleadingly as he turned back the blankets. “It will make me breathe easier.”

She pressed her mouth against his and sat on the edge of the bed. “Do not say that I never indulge you,” she quipped.

He tenderly ran a fingertip down her cheek. “I shall return soon, my love,” he whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she replied, smiling as he kissed her once more. Her eyes followed him as he left the room, and she rolled over onto her side.

*****

Katalia blinked, surprised she had fallen asleep, and stretched with a tired yawn. She jumped in fright and started to scream, but a filthy rag pressed over her nose and mouth prevented any sound. Thrashing and wriggling, the world slowly darkened round her, and her body felt heavy as her strength slowly seeped out of her. She collapsed back against the pillows, totally unconscious.

*****

Thranduil exhaled through his nose, his anger bubbling under the cool exterior that he presented to the world. His love had been injured because of someone’s negligence and carelessness, and the servant in question was now looking forward to the next week in the darkness of the dungeons.

Shaking his head, he left the throne room and made his way towards his chambers. Katalia had been present on his mind throughout the entire interrogation of the servant, and he had been unable to shift her to one side. Along with the deep feeling of nausea, he had struggled to get through berating his member of staff.

He rubbed his eyes as he pushed open the door to their rooms, stopping dead in his tracks. The bed before him lay empty, the blankets half on the floor. Frowning, he entered the room.

“Katalia?” he called. His eyes scanned the room and he stepped into the bathing area. No sign of her. Terror spiked through him as he turned and caught sight of the knife she had taken from her boot out in the field. It had been stabbed down into the wood of his desk.

She would not have done that.

Roaring for the guards, he fled from the room.

*****

“Father! Father, what has happened?” Legolas cried, running down the hallway.

Thranduil turned to him, and the look in his eyes almost stopped his son in his tracks.

“Katalia has been taken,” he whispered. “She is gone. I left her for not half an hour, and she has been taken.”

“By whom?” Legolas asked, frowning in confusion. “Where were the guards? I do not understand.”

Guards and soldiers shuffled around them, assembling themselves into some sort of order.

Thranduil was pure white with shock, with dark shadows under his eyes. “I do not know,” he whispered. “The guards saw and heard nothing. Whoever has taken her must have come in through the window.”

“She would have made a noise,” his son objected. “This does not make sense.”

“Maybe this will help, my Lord, my Prince,” a guard said as he approached. He held aloft a piece of fabric.

Thranduil snatched it from him, bringing it to his nose. “She was drugged,” he gasped, turning horrified eyes to his offspring. “She has been taken against her will.”

Legolas took a deep breath. “I will assemble our best trackers,” he said as he touched his father’s arm in a gesture of comfort. “Myself and Tauriel will join with them. We will find her.”

Tears threatened to spill down Thranduil’s cheeks as he gazed at him, unseeing.

“Stay strong,” the younger royal urged. “I will arrange the trackers, and meet with you before we leave.” He released his father and sprinted off in search of Tauriel and the trackers.

“My Lord?” one of the guards questioned hesitantly. “How do you wish us to proceed?”

He turned to him almost in a trance. “Find her,” he said. “Find my wife and bring her back to me.”

They turned and hurried out of the palace, with him following, still in a daze. Horses stamped in their impatience to set off, picking up the urgency from their masters. Guards scattered everywhere, scrambling to find their mounts and tearing off through the gates. He glanced around at the organised chaos, numb right through to his heart.

His son reappearing at his side drew his shocked gaze.

“Stay here,” he told him. “We will head out and search for her. Try to stay positive. She has not been gone for long, so she cannot be too far.”

Thranduil nodded. Tauriel touched his arm as she passed, following Legolas at a run through the gates. All at once he found himself completely alone, bereft of a single soul to help him through what was to come.

*****

Darkness fell.

The guards had not returned.

Thranduil sat in front of the fire, staring down at the piece of cloth he held in his hands. The horrible smell drifted up from it, reminding him that his lover had been taken by force. Lifting his gaze to the flames, he felt as though his soul was empty.

The bond between him and Katalia was telling him nothing. He could not sense her, or her feelings. He had no idea where in Middle Earth she was, or who had taken her. He didn’t know if she was still alive, or had been slaughtered.

The door to his chambers opened, and he turned to see Legolas.

“Anything?” he asked immediately, jumping to his feet.

His son shook his head sadly. “We lost the trail halfway through the forest,” he said quietly. “Whoever took her acted alone. We found only one set of horse tracks, both coming and leaving. It is too dark to see anything more.”

Thranduil’s head lowered. “I should never have left her,” he whispered.

Legolas put his hand on his shoulder. “You could not have foreseen this,” he said firmly. “None of us did. It is a mystery.”

He lifted his head and looked at him, silent tears streaming down his cheeks. Legolas swallowed his emotions away and stepped forwards, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. His father hugged him back, his body trembling with grief.

“We will bring her back, I swear,” Legolas promised fiercely. “If we do nothing else, we will bring her back.”

“I cannot sense her,” Thranduil gasped, pulling back and wiping his eyes. “Our bond is not yet strong enough to withstand this.”

The wind had picked up, and whistled through minute gaps as it whipped around outside. Both men turned their eyes to the window and the darkness that lay beyond.

“You cannot let this break you,” Legolas said softly. “This is the one time you have to rely on your inner strength. Katalia may need that strength when she returns. I know you have it in you; it has always been there.”

Thranduil shook his head. “I have nothing,” he whispered brokenly. “Without her, I have nothing. I _am_ nothing.”


	21. Chapter 21

** CHAPTER TWENTY ONE **

****

Katalia frowned as she fought her way to consciousness. The cold wind was biting into her flesh, and every limb ached. The need to retch was overwhelming, and she fought to hold it back. Opening her eyes, she realised she was surrounded by darkness, save the flickering light from a nearby fire.

She moved to roll over, stopping as she realised the acute pain in her wrists came from her hands being bound together. Her ankles were tied, rendering her helpless.

She twisted her head back to see the fire, trying to figure out where she was and who had taken her.

The silhouette of a person with their back to her met her gaze, and she cursed inwardly.

She would know that figure anywhere.

“If you had intended to take my life, you would have done so before now,” she said, and the figure’s head turned slightly, giving her a profile view against the flames. “If not, you have brought so much grief onto your shoulders.”

The figure stood and slowly walked over to her.

Cold eyes glared down at where she lay on the grass. “I will deal with whatever comes my way,” came the bitter reply. “I have strong shoulders.”

“Not strong enough,” she said. “You have no idea the wrath you will be subjected to. You have not thought this through.”

The figure smirked, walking along the length of her body and squatting at her feet. “I have given it considerable thought. I have looked at every option, every possible outcome. I have left nothing uncovered.”

She held the eyes of her captor. “This will be your worst nightmare if you continue,” she said.

Thorin laughed humourlessly. “I am already living in a nightmare,” he replied. “Nothing your precious King could inflict on me could make it any worse.”

She shook her head. “You know nothing.”

Anger flashed in his eyes. “I know I already gave him a peaceful solution!” he spat. “And he refused. That was his undoing.”

She narrowed her eyes, a minute gesture, but he caught it.

“He did not tell you, did he?” he asked slowly. “I offered him a deal. He would return the gems, and I would back away, leave you to your miserable life with him. He would not even contemplate it. He has chosen the gems over you, Katalia. What does that say about him and what he holds close to his cold heart?”

She snorted softly. “You do not know him,” she said. “He will hunt you down and tear you limb from limb.”

The dwarf shook his head slowly. “He will never find me. Maybe I will let him find you, or maybe not. I am undecided as yet. As it stands, no one can find us. I have made sure of that.”

She said nothing.

“I will make him suffer,” he hissed, staring into the fire. “He will know pain like no other. He thinks he suffered when his wife died?” He laughed; another humourless sound. “That will be nothing to what he is going through as we speak.”

She sighed, closing her eyes. Concentrating on Thranduil, she blocked out every sound around her, save the gentle rustling of the leaves high above her. A few moments of silence passed, and she smiled. “Do not underestimate the elf King,” she said.

Thorin glared at her, stood up and stomped back over to the fire.

*****

Thranduil opened his eyes in alarm.

_Katalia!_

He sprung from the bed, throwing his robe on as he moved, and hurried from his chambers. Pounding furiously on Legolas’s door, he barged in. “She is still alive!” he said, hauling the blankets from his confused and bewildered son. “I felt her. She is still alive!”

Legolas blinked, slowly sitting up in bed. “Do you have any idea where she is?” he asked, yawning as he slid out and found his feet.

Thranduil huffed impatiently. “No. I feel she is in the forest somewhere. That could be anywhere. I am going to search for her.”

His son’s eyes widened in alarm. “Good grief, wait for me,” he stuttered, hurrying to find his clothing. “Are you sure about this? You definitely were not dreaming?”

“I was not dreaming! I was not even asleep! How can I sleep knowing she is in danger, that she is away from me?” he snapped. “I should have known better,” he muttered, storming from the room.

Legolas hurried after him, half in and half out of his clothing. “Father, wait! I am coming with you,” he called after his rapidly disappearing figure. He paused, walloping Tauriel’s door as he passed. “Assemble the guards!” he shouted, and continued after the King.

Thranduil was already dressed by the time his son reached his chambers. “I will not return until we have found her,” he vowed, lifting his sword and swishing it through the air. His icy stare turned to his son. “Let us bring her home.”

*****

Thorin grunted as he dragged Katalia behind him. “Move!” he growled, yanking harder on the rope that bound her wrists. The harsh binding cut further into her flesh, causing her to yelp in pain.

“Thorin! Wait!” she pleaded, stumbling to keep up with him.

“No! We shall keep moving,” he snapped. He stormed ahead, panting with exertion as he battled against the wind and the rain. The ground underfoot was soggy and muddy, and several times both of them almost lost their footing.

“Thorin, slow down!” she shouted. “You are going to kill us both!”

“That will be one less problem to worry about!” he yelled back. “We keep going!”

She trudged along behind him, the uphill climb becoming steeper and more treacherous. Loose rocks and boulders shifted under their feet, the path becoming more dangerous the higher they went. Bruised and bleeding from the several times he had turned on her and lashed out at her, she struggled to keep up with his hurried pace.

Storm clouds erupted with fury around them, making conditions worse. Katalia was soaked to the skin and shivering cold. Rain poured down from the darkened heavens, making it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. They had been travelling for hours.

Thorin stopped eventually, right at the top. A sheer rock ledge stood proudly before them, and he twisted, throwing her angrily against the hard slope of it. “You will remain here,” he snarled. “Now I will go and take what is rightfully mine. And if not, then it will be decades before anyone finds your rotted, decomposed body.”

She fought against him as he tied his end of the rope securely to a rusted metal loop that protruded from the rock, tugging his full weight on it to make sure it was secure. Satisfied that it was, he stepped back.

“Thorin, he will kill you,” she gasped.

He smirked. “Then you had better hope he doesn’t, or you shall die up here,” he sneered. “All alone, nobody will ever think of looking up here. So pray that he sees sense, and you will live. Otherwise, my dear, you will die.”

She watched him in dismay as he turned away from her, picking his way back down the hillside. Her heart thudded like a drum in her chest as she sank back against the cold rock, realising she was stuck and had no means of escape. Sorrow flowed through her chilled body as she realised she might never see Thranduil again, if Thorin failed to negotiate with him, or if he went crazy and killed him before he could say where she was.

She felt tears begin to gather as he came to mind, his handsome features so clear to her. His arrogant smirk, his confident walk, his strong resolve. His broad shoulders, his long hair flowing down his back, his incredibly long legs. His full, kissable mouth, his penetrating ice blue eyes.

Her tears began to fall.

*****

Thranduil sat with his knees pulled up, his head between his knees, hyperventilating. Legolas glanced at Tauriel, worry in his eyes. He rubbed his father’s back, trying to bring him a sense of something; peace maybe. The guards around them fell back, unsure of how to act around their devastated ruler.

“You have to remain hopeful,” Legolas whispered, squatting down beside him. “You cannot give in to despair.”

Heartbroken eyes lifted to meet his. “It has been six nights,” he whispered. “Six long, cold nights. I cannot feel our bond anymore. It has gone.”

“That does not mean to say something bad has happened,” his son replied. “Maybe she is unconscious, maybe she is preserving her energy. Maybe she is in a situation where she cannot reach you.”

Thranduil blinked and looked away. “I cannot help but fear the worst, but I will not rest until I find her,” he said quietly.

Tauriel handed him a cup of hot herbal tea, pushing it into his hands as he stared at it as though he had no idea what it was or what to do with it. “You have to keep your strength up, my Lord,” she said gently.

His head lowered again.

*****

The nights rolled into days, then back into nights again.

Katalia had given up hope, and had resigned herself to the fact that she was going to die without ever seeing her lover again. She was frozen to the bone, hungry, and in pain. The bruises that Thorin had inflicted as she had struggled to keep up with him on their long trek were almost pulsating with pain, and her body was paying the price. The rope that tied her wrists had cut into her flesh, having rubbed the skin raw and caused bleeding. Her strength was rapidly diminishing, and she waited for death to claim her shattered soul.

Meanwhile, Thranduil was still searching. The trackers did not rest, being constantly on the move trying to pick up a trail of where she had gone. Legolas kept an eye on his father, trying to make sure he ate regularly and rested when he was tired. Thranduil however, pushed himself way beyond exhaustion.

Then finally, a breakthrough.

“My Lord! My Lord!” a guard shouted at the top of his voice, crashing through the woods.

Thranduil spun round, adrenalin flowing through him.

“My Lord, we have found Oakenshield,” the guard gasped, as his comrades piled up behind him. “He is badly injured, and barely alive.”

“Where?” he demanded, grabbing the reins of his horse. “Where is he?!”

“About half a mile south of here,” the guard replied. “If you follow me, my Lord.”

Thranduil leapt up onto his horse, not even bothering to put his cloak around himself. Legolas grabbed it as an afterthought and tossed it over his father’s thighs. The guards turned and headed back in the direction they had come, with their ruler on their tails. Trees and bushes flew past as they charged through the undergrowth.

As the guards pulled to a stop close to a group of large rocks, he flew from his horse and grabbed the half-dead, bleeding mess that lay crumpled on the ground.

“Where is she?” he roared, shaking him. “Where is she?!”

Thorin’s eyes opened slowly, and he struggled to speak.

“Talk!” he bellowed. “Tell me where you have taken her!”

The dwarf gasped, putting everything he had into trying to form words. “Up…up…up on Hawk’s Head,” he rasped. “Hawk’s Head.”

Thranduil’s heart pounded furiously. “How long has she been up there?” he demanded, still shaking him.

“Eleven nights,” the whispered response came.

He released him in shock. _Eleven nights?_ She could not have survived the freezing temperatures up there.

“Slipped…coming d…coming down,” Thorin gasped.

“When I have found her, my healers will treat you, and not before,” Thranduil spat. “And even then it will only be so I can inflict more pain on you. I will torture you until you are screaming to die.” He gripped the front of his tunic and lifted him slightly, before throwing him with force back onto the ground.

He turned and leapt back up onto the horse, kicking his heels against it and charging off into the mist. The animal served him well and was as sure-footed as any goat, making the long, steep ascent quickly and efficiently. Hawk’s Head was notorious for claiming the lives of those who attempted to reach the top, and he felt within his heart that he had lost her forever. Hooves pounded against rocks and stones as horse and rider flew upwards, each leaping bound taking them closer to the summit.

As they finally crested the top of the peak, Thranduil slid from the animal, rushing over to a broken form lying on the ground.

_Katalia._

He sunk to his knees, gathering her frozen body in his arms. She felt like ice in his hold, her lips blue and her body frail. Lowering his head onto her chest, he allowed his tears to fall, swords of agonising pain shooting through him. Roaring his grief, he lifted his head to look at the dark grey skies above them, screaming his anger and his anguish. His shoulders shook as he cried, the pain too much for him to cope with.

Legolas and Tauriel’s horses could be heard approaching, and within seconds the couple had dismounted and stood slightly behind him.

“Is she alive, my Lord?” Tauriel asked hesitantly.

“Just, and no more,” he whispered. “She has almost faded completely.”

“We have to move her to the healers,” Legolas said. “The sooner, the better.”

Thranduil shook his head. “She cannot be moved. She is too weak. She will not be able to endure the journey down to the forest floor.”

“Then I shall return to the palace and bring them here,” Tauriel said, turning to her horse.

“No.”

The simple word stopped her.

Ice blue eyes met hers, and her heart broke at the look in them.

“There is not enough time,” he whispered. Tears poured down his face. “She will not last that long.”

“So what do we do?” she asked. “There must be something!”

He shook his head sadly. “I do not have the power needed to heal her enough to move her,” he cried. “She is only just clinging to what light is left in her soul. It has dimmed so much that even I cannot sense it anymore. I will stay with her.”

Legolas’s eyebrows shot up. “What? Father, you cannot stay!”

“Leave us,” he whispered. “If she has to die, I will die here with her. I will never leave her.”

Legolas and Tauriel looked at each other in horror.


	22. Chapter 22

** CHAPTER TWENTY TWO **

****

Tears gathered in Tauriel’s eyes as she gazed at her King. His head lowered and he rested it against Katalia, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed. His arms held her tightly and he refused to let her go.

Rain lashed down hard, the cold hiss of the drops like needles against their skin. Legolas shook his head in defeat, grief overwhelming him. Losing the light of his father’s existence was a horrific prospect, but losing his father too was unthinkable.

“Katalia, my love,” Thranduil whispered as he rocked backwards and forwards with her in his arms. “I love you _so_ much. I would gladly give my life to allow you to live. Please do not leave me. Take me with you, _Melleth nin._ I cannot live without you.”

“You are needed here,” a voice filtered through his anguished pleas. An ethereal voice that could only belong to one person.

Galadriel.

“I do not wish to be here,” he whispered.

“You are needed,” she repeated, her soft, calming voice seeming to blanket him from all sides. “There is no cause for you to leave.”

“I cannot exist without Katalia,” he said.

“Pool together your strengths,” she told him. “There is power in numbers. Use it well. There is still time.”

Silence.

Thranduil slowly lifted his head, gazing down at the still form he held. Her breathing was sparse and shallow, her pulse barely visible. “Power in numbers,” he repeated in a whisper. “Power in numbers,” he said louder, looking up at Legolas and Tauriel. “Pool together our strengths, there is power in numbers!”

His son blinked in confusion, and Tauriel instantly moved to kneel on the soaked ground on the other side of Katalia, swiftly slicing through the rope that bound her to the looped metal embedded in the rock.

“We pool our healing powers,” she said, an excited gleam in her eyes. “We can do this. Legolas!”

He moved out of his trance, settling next to his father. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.

Thranduil nodded, ignoring the tears that mingled with the rain. “Galadriel spoke to me.”

“And her advice is never to be ignored,” Tauriel said with a smile as she placed her hands on Katalia’s head. “Legolas, put your hands on her abdomen.”

He complied, and his father gently rested her back on the ground, placing his hands over her heart.

The three of them began chanting in unison, their souls connecting and merging as their healing power intensified and flowed through their hands. The storm around them grew wilder as the clouds above turned dark grey, and thunder crashed across the lands. Lightning shot across the skies in blinding flashes and the wind picked up force.

Still the three of them held position, their chanting growing stronger as the healing energy transferred into the almost lifeless being, surging through her body at speed. Nobody paid any attention to the wild conditions around them as they focused on their task.

Still the rain swept around them.

Still the wind howled and the skies crashed and rumbled overhead.

Still they stayed strong, united in their mission to save her life.

Time passed endlessly, and Thranduil knew his energy was rapidly diminishing. He refused to stop, and forced more effort into his calling. Katalia _had_ to survive, she _had_ to live.

His own heart missed a beat as she took a slightly deeper breath under his hands. Tauriel noticed the subtle change and opened her eyes, noticing her lips were more pink than before. Catching her King’s eye, she chanted louder in determination. Katalia took another breath. The three of them continued, knowing they were making progress.

Eventually she took a massive breath and they ceased; waiting. Another huge breath followed. And another.

Tauriel leaned back, wiping tears and rain from her face. “She lives, my Lord,” she whispered through a watery smile. “She will pull through.”

Legolas heaved an exhausted sigh of relief and collapsed back onto his heels, worn out and drained. “Thank the Valar,” he whispered.

Thranduil leaned over her, running his hands down her cheeks. “Katalia, my love,” he whispered. “Live for me, _Melleth nin._ Live for me.”

Her colour was slowly returning to normal, the blue almost gone from her lips. Although still very pale and ashen, she looked healthier than previously.

“We have to move her from here,” Tauriel said as she glanced around. “The conditions are too harsh; we will lose any ground we have gained if we do not move her.”

Thranduil nodded, glancing up at her. “I think she is strong enough,” he said. “I will carry her.”

She frowned in concern. “My Lord, it is a dangerous descent,” she said. “Would the horse not be more equipped?”

“She needs body heat,” Legolas said. “If you ride your horse holding her, I will guide you back down.”

“Thankyou,” Thranduil said. His son got up and fetched the cloak he had thrown over the horse, and handed it to him. Wrapping it carefully around Katalia, he lifted her gently into his arms and rose to his feet. Wordlessly, Legolas urged the horse down onto his knees allowing his father to straddle him, and the animal stood back up once his master was settled.

“I will ride in front,” Legolas said, leaping up onto his own mount and taking the reins of his father’s.

Very slowly, they started the journey back down to the forest floor, the skies gradually clearing and the rain ceasing.

*****

A team of healers had been fetched from the palace, and had immediately begun to work on their future Queen as soon as the royal party had returned to their camp. Thranduil impatiently brushed one of them away from him; he wanted his mate to be taken care of.  Legolas and Tauriel went back to their tents to rest and recuperate, exhausted after their effort.

Once the healers had done what they could and were dismissed to attend Thorin, Thranduil arranged for a large container to be filled with heated water. He sent the servants and guards away and sealed his tent, where he carefully bathed his lover. She hadn’t regained consciousness, but her colour was normal and her breathing had settled. Her heart beat strongly in her chest, and he felt tears burning his eyes as he settled her into the warm water. Loving, gentle touches washed away the grime, the mud, the blood, and the dirt from her horrific ordeal she had endured while away from him. Bruise after bruise presented itself, and his heart broke a little more at the sight of each one.

He gradually bathed her from head to toe, lifting her from the water and wrapping her in a soft, warm towel. Once he had dried her, he placed her into the soft pile of blankets and snuggled down beside her, wrapping his arms and legs around her in a tight embrace. Pressing a tender kiss to her cheek, he closed his eyes and relaxed.

She was safe at last.

*****

Katalia sighed softly and slowly opened her eyes. Bright sunlight streamed all around her, making her frown. She felt warm and cosy. Something soft. Something furry. Something warm, hard, and living pressed against her back.

Jerking forwards in fright, an arm tightened around her.

“Relax, _Melleth nin,_ ” a deep, velvet voice whispered. “You are safe.”

She flipped over, her eyes widening at the sight of Thranduil propped up on one elbow, watching her. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “Thranduil?” She hesitantly lifted her hand and touched her fingertips to his cheek. “Is it really you?”

He smiled. “Yes, my love. You are completely safe now. It is over.”

She breathed deeply, her heart thudding rapidly. “What happened? Where…”

He gently took her hand and held it against his chest. “Oakenshield took you up onto Hawks’ Head,” he said.

She nodded. “I remember.”

“He slipped on the way down and we found him in the valley at the bottom. We came and found you, and brought you back to camp,” he told her.

She stared at him in stunned silence. “So that’s it?” she whispered. “It’s all over? I can come home?” Tears filled her eyes.

He swallowed away the lump in his throat. “Yes, my darling, you can come home, with me,” he whispered back. His own eyes watered at the mixture of shock, disbelief, and gratitude in the eyes that held his. He touched his palm to her cheek. “I almost lost you, my love.” His words came out in a broken whisper as his tears overflowed. “I thought you were going to die.”

She breathed raggedly. “I never thought I would see you again. I gave up…I did not think I would make it,” she said.

He clenched his jaw as he shook his head stubbornly. “I would never have given up searching for you,” he said. “Never. I thought when I found you that you were already gone, and I begged for you to take me with you…I need you, Katalia, I need you so much.”

Her eyes closed as her own tears spilled over, and he gently kissed them away. Her arms wound round his shoulders as a sob burst free, her body shaking and trembling as he held her close.

“Please forgive me for taking so long to find you,” he begged in a broken whisper.

“Hush,” she replied, soaking up the warmth from his bare shoulders. Words could not explain the joy she felt flood through her body and soul at being held so tightly in his arms. The nights up on Hawk’s Head had seemed endless, and she had been certain she would never experience the pleasure of his touch again.

“You have had much healing, my love,” he said into her hair. “But you will still need a lot of time to recover.” He pulled back and gazed at her, almost stunned himself that she was alive and well. “I had given up when we were up there, but Lady Galadriel spoke to me and guided me. We have her to thank for either of us being here, as I was preparing to die to follow you.”

Katalia’s tears continued to stream down her face as she gazed at him in wonder. “You have too much to do to even consider dying,” she said.

He smiled a tearful smile. “Yes…I have to make you my wife,” he replied. “And I intend on doing so as soon as you are well enough. I will wait no longer. I need you.”

She closed her eyes as his warm mouth touched hers in a soft kiss.

“I think you should rest today and tonight, and we will begin our journey back at sunrise tomorrow,” he said as he ran his fingers through her hair. “I do not think you are up to the journey quite yet.”

She nodded in acceptance. “You will know better than I,” she agreed. Her forehead rested against his, and the minutes passed as their bond slowly reconnected and strengthened.

Eventually she pulled back a little and sat up with a sigh, looking for something to drink. Thranduil wordlessly passed her a cup with cool water, which she emptied.

“What happened to Thorin?” she asked, glancing at him.

His face hardened. “He is being treated by the healers,” he replied. “And then he will suffer for what he has done. I will make him pay with every drop of his blood for what he has put you through.”

“But he is alive?”

“For now,” he said.

She chose to let it drop for the time being.

“Do you feel ready to eat something?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. Not yet.”

He held his arms out. “Please lie with me,” he whispered, almost begging her. “I need to hold you.”

She settled back down and tucked her head under his chin, her ear pressed against the heart that thumped reassuringly in his chest. As his arms closed around her, her eyes drifted closed, and peace filtered through her soul.

Thranduil also closed his eyes, his own soul finally at peace with the knowledge that she was safe, and she would live through this.

*****

Katalia slept most of the day, waking only to reassure herself that she was back with her lover. Thranduil never left her side, staying within the confines of the tent and having anyone enter who had anything to discuss.

Legolas and Tauriel dropped in to see how she was, and stayed for quite a while. Tauriel in particular proved to be a good source of support for her, cheering her up and doing some more light healing on her.

The following day, Thranduil decided that she was still too weak to ride herself, and insisted she make the journey home with him. Her arguments about the horse not being able to cope with the added weight fell on deaf ears; he was a Shire horse and could probably carry five guards without batting an eyelid. She only argued half-heartedly, acknowledging within herself that she longed to be in his arms as much as possible.

They set out just after dawn broke, with guards riding both in front and behind as they rode slowly through the dense woodland. Several times she drifted off to sleep snuggled against his broad chest, and each time he automatically tightened his arm around her and pulled her closer. They chatted occasionally, but for the most part, they were contented just riding along together.

She spent much of the journey with her eyes closed, her head resting against his shoulder, breathing in his unique smell and absorbing his strength.

“How do you feel, my love?” he asked at one point. “We will stop and rest if you need to.”

She lifted her head and smiled sleepily. “No, I just want to get home,” she told him. “I miss the comfort of the palace, our soft bed, even the irritating servant who follows me around like a shadow.”

He grinned. “I must allocate you more on our return,” he said, as though he had forgotten and was just remembering. “You will need more around you while you recover.”

“I do not,” she said. “And I do not want any more. I do not particularly want the one I have; she grates on my nerves after a time. I just need rest, that is all. And you. When you are not busy.”

His eyes lowered to meet hers. “All my duties are on hold indefinitely,” he replied. “My priority is to take care of you. Legolas will see to everything in my absence.”

“That is unfair,” she said. “He has his own tasks to attend to.”

“I do not mind,” the younger royal spoke up from in front of them. “It might make a pleasant change from my usual routine. And if it keeps my father happy, then all the more reason for me to do it. I am sure if he is kept away from you Katalia, he will turn more vicious than a warg with rabies.”

She laughed, and Thranduil snorted.


	23. Chapter 23

** CHAPTER TWENTY THREE **

****

A week passed.

Thranduil had settled Katalia into their chambers immediately on their return, demanding the healers to tend to her there where she would be comfortable. They had complied with their King’s demands without thought or hesitation, glad that their future Queen was home safely and that they would not have to endure his wrath and ill-temper. Treatment was given, wounds cleaned and re-dressed, and they retreated to leave the couple in peace.

Meals were taken to the royal chambers, after Thranduil insisted everything be close at hand for her. He banned her from wandering around the palace, and made sure she stayed where he could keep a watchful eye on her.

By the end of the week, she was starting to feel boredom creeping in. Her strength had slowly returned, her appetite was back to normal, and she wanted to venture out. Thranduil hovered over her day and night, and she started to feel like she was a burden.

She voiced her thoughts.

Ice blue eyes glared at her from where he sat cross-legged on the bottom of the bed. “I do not wish to hear such nonsense,” he muttered. “I refuse to listen.”

She folded her arms, sighing in exasperation. “You have not left these chambers in a week,” she pointed out.

“And? Why would I wish to? Why would I want to be anywhere else, other than at your side?” he demanded with a frown. Setting his handful of documents on the bed, he reached over and took her hand. “Katalia, I came far too close to losing you.” His voice had dropped to a pained whisper. “You had one foot over the threshold of death. That terrified me, my love. I have to move past that, and right now I am unable to. I need to be with you, and I do understand your frustration, I promise I do. Please just give me some more time…I am scared.”

“Scared of what?” she asked, her voice soft.

He closed his eyes briefly. “I am scared that you might still die,” he whispered. His eyes opened again and held hers. The pain in the depths took her breath away.

She crawled out from under the mountain of blankets he had insisted on, settling on her knees next to him. “I am not going to die,” she said. “I am getting stronger every day, I am eating better, I am sleeping well. And the most important thing? I have you. You are here with me, and you have no idea how much strength I take from that, from your arms around me as I sleep. I did not _want_ to live, Thranduil, when I was up on that mountain. I wanted to die, because I did not think I would ever see you again. That is why I gave up. Because I need you to exist.”

Tears filled his eyes, which had never left hers as she spoke, and slid silently down his cheeks. She gently kissed them away, her mouth soft and warm against his smooth skin.

“Do not weep, my love,” she whispered. “You found me, and you gave me what I needed to survive. Take comfort from that.” She placed her palm on his cheek as she stared into his eyes.

He took a deep breath, breaking their gaze and looking away from her.

Running her hand through the long lengths of his blond hair, she waited for him to speak.

“I have dreams,” he said after a while, his voice low. “Vivid dreams. They started after you were taken. Dreams of you being fatally injured. Dreams of you never being found, or of me finding you dead. I thought they would stop once we returned, but they have not. They torment me, and I fear falling asleep.”

“They will stop through time,” she told him. “That is your mind playing tricks on you, because you hold some sort of guilt that you should not be holding. Let it go, my love…the dreams will stop.”

He took a shuddering breath. “Do not _ever_ think that you are a burden,” he whispered. “You are the most precious light in Middle Earth, and I will fight until my last breath to keep that light burning. I love you so much Katalia, it tears me apart when I think of what happened.”

“Then do not think of it,” she told him. “It will serve no purpose.”

He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers, their bond flickering to life in awareness of each other. After a while, he sat back. “You wish to leave these chambers for some time? Will you accompany me for a walk?”

Her face lit up in a huge smile. “Yes, my King, I would be _honoured_ to accompany you,” she replied. She pushed hard against his shoulder. “Alright, I need to get dressed…get out of my way. Come on, move over. Oh…” she stopped, halfway through sliding off the bed onto her feet, and glanced back at him. “I love you.”

He smiled, lowering his eyes and shaking his head. “Put your cloak on, and in the name of all that is sacred, put something on your feet for once in your life. And I love you too.”

She grinned, yelping in excitement as she bounced to her feet and grabbed her cloak. She swung it around her shoulders, the bottom edge catching the back of his head with a sharp crack in her haste.

“Sit!” he yelled, rubbing his head. “I will find shoes for you, otherwise I will be knocked unconscious as you charge around here like a demented orc with a dose of fleas!”

She crashed back down onto her backside on top of the bed, giggling as he scowled in his search for footwear, sticking her feet out as he gingerly approached her with a pair of soft slip-on shoes.

“What?” she laughed.

“I fear for my safety,” he grumbled, and she could hear the amusement he failed miserably to hide from her. “I do not wish to have to explain to my council why I have a broken jaw and two black eyes. It would not bear well for the King to have taken a beating from his wife-to-be.”

She snorted as she tried to hold back a laugh. “Oh you exaggerate, my love,” she said, a wicked sparkle in her eyes. Jumping to her feet as he put her shoes on, she held her arm out. “Take me wherever you will,” she demanded.

He grinned as he linked his arm through hers. “To the heights of your wildest dreams,” he said huskily and brushed his mouth over hers. Leading her across the room, he held the door open and ushered her though before him. The guards’ eyes widened in surprise but they remained silent as they dutifully stepped aside.

They slowly wandered along the hallway.

“Where would you like to go?” he asked.

“Anywhere you wish to take me,” she replied. “I am so happy to be out of those walls for a time. Take me anywhere.”

He glanced down at her. “Do you feel like you could manage the gardens?”

“I can manage anywhere you take me,” she said. Her arm lowered and she wrapped her hand around his, smiling as he tightened the hold.

*****

Katalia seemed brighter and happier after they returned from the gardens. The flowers had been in full bloom, surrounding them with the fragrance that drifted through the air. They had spent quite some time out there, sitting on the grass and talking. One of the servants had appeared with two cups of herbal tea, placed them down and discreetly disappeared, making Thranduil smile. It appeared he was not the only one in his kingdom to appreciate having her home.

He continued to watch her throughout the day.

“What is wrong, my love?” she asked at one point.

His eyebrows rose in innocence. “Nothing, _Melleth nin,_ ” he replied. “Why do you think there might be?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You are watching me like a hawk,” she replied with a grin. “I will not vanish into thin air, I will not collapse and disappear, I promise. I feel really good after being outside.”

He smiled. “I am glad,” he told her. “Maybe the sun and the fresh air did you good.”

“Definitely. I would really like to get out a bit more over the coming days,” she said.

He watched her as her sewing needle flew at speed through the soft fabric of his cloak, which had the beginnings of a small tear along one seam. Her eyes remained on her task, her movements swift and confident.

“I can feel you staring at me,” she laughed, glancing up as she worked.

“I am sorry, I do not mean to stare,” he said. “I find great peace watching you.”

She tilted her head with a smile. “I accept any compliments you wish to shower me with.” Ever aware of his gaze, she continued to stitch the garment in her hands. The candles around them both flickered in the slight draught that filtered into the room from the open window.

“I was wondering…” he started, then stopped.

“Wondering what?”

“Um…if maybe you would like to go for a moonlit ride with me?” he asked slowly, seeming to find it difficult to get the words out.

Her hands stilled, her eyes meeting his.

Seconds ticked past in the silence.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I would love to.”

His ice blue eyes darted away briefly in his nervousness, and he swallowed, then flashed a bright smile at her. “Then let us go,” he said and rose to his feet.

She set her sewing to one side and jumped up, feeling energised once more. Sliding her hand through his large, warm one, she followed him out of the room. The palace was quiet, with only a few guards and servants here and there as they walked along. Neither of them spoke as they went out towards the stables.

Thranduil stopped and brought his horse out, lifting her up onto the animal’s back, before leaping up behind her. His left arm slid around her waist and he took the reins with his right hand, tugging her impossibly close as he guided them away from their home.

The sky overhead was the deepest, darkest blue-black, and reminded Katalia of a velvet blanket on which snuggled thousands and thousands of twinkling gems of starlight. The summer breeze was warm, lifting the ends of her hair as they rode in silence through the forest.

She knew without words where they were going.

The horse made his way along to the clearing where Thranduil had taken her previously, and she felt like she had rewound time itself as everything was so familiar. The warm breeze, the scents of the forest, the sky and the stars, the brilliant moon, and the strength of his arm around her.

He dismounted before her, helping her to slide off the horse and into his arms, and took her hand in his. They left the animal grazing contentedly and strolled through the trees, once again emerging out in the clearing with the amazing view of the forest below them.

They stood in silence, absorbing the peace around them.

Katalia turned to Thranduil to see him watching her.

His eyes looked different.

She knew what was in his heart.

“Will you be my wife?” he asked softly.

She smiled. “Yes.”

A slight frown creased his forehead. “But I do not want to deny you the-“

She interrupted him by lifting herself up onto her toes, pressing her mouth to his to halt his words. His warm flesh against hers stirred an awakening deep within her soul, and she melted into him as his arms went around her.

“I knew this was what you wanted when you asked me to come out tonight,” she whispered, pulling back a little. “I want it too.”

He swallowed. “You deserve a traditional-“

Again she cut him off, kissing him deeply and passionately. Unable to resist her enough to argue, he responded and lost himself in her kiss, his train of thought dissolving into meaningless nonsense. Her arms tightened around his neck, pulling him down to her as she successfully silenced him.

Her body arched into his as his hands slowly travelled up and down her back, from her shoulders down to her hips, then lower to hold her tighter against his growing arousal. A soft whimper sounded in the darkness as she ground against him, feeling the hardness through the thin fabric of her casual clothing. Bringing her hands forward over his shoulders, she undid his cloak and dropped it to the grass behind him, and concentrated on undoing his tunic. Hot flesh met her eager hands as she hungrily explored what she had uncovered.

The world around her tipped off balance as he lowered her to the grass, settling her gently on her back, his mouth never leaving hers. Piece by piece, garments were pulled aside or up and off, or pushed down out of the way.

He eventually pulled back a little gazing down at her. The moonlight reflected in the depths of her eyes. “Are you sure about this?” he whispered.

“More than anything,” she replied, true love burning in the shadowed blue. “I want you more than anything in my life. I want to be your lover, your best friend, your wife, your Queen. I want to spend the rest of time serving you, taking care of you, and loving you. And I promise with all my body, my heart, and my soul that that will be the focus of my existence. I love you, Thranduil.”

His nostrils flared as he listened to her heartfelt words, words he knew came from deep within her heart and soul. Words that could never be taken away, that could never have their true meaning broken.

He lifted a hand and gently stroked her hair. “You mean more to me than anything on this earth,” he whispered. “I swear to spend eternity loving you, guiding you, protecting you, and serving you the way a King should serve his Queen. As long as I draw breath, you will always be my priority, over and above everything else. I would trade everything that I have – my title, my birth-right, my kingdom, my wealth, everything – for you. I love you, Katalia.”

They gazed into each other’s eyes for a few moments, almost in amazement and awe at the power of the love they had for each other. Katalia’s eyes closed as his head lowered and he kissed her, her body relaxing and accepting his in the ancient ritual of bonding in marriage. The forest floor felt soft at her back as they moved together, the smells of the summer night filling her senses. Her hands caressed his body as he made love to her with such care and tenderness that she felt as though her heart would explode with emotion.

They both physically felt the surge of energy in their souls as their bond seemed to burst into a white-hot inferno deep within them, their marriage union initiating the final burst of strength in their connection. Both of them paused and opened their eyes, staring at each other in wonder.

Thranduil smiled, a gesture which she returned, and he kissed her as he continued to strengthen their coupling.

*****

Katalia leaned back against Thranduil’s chest, a sleepy smile on her face. They had fallen asleep in each other’s arms out in the forest, and woke up to a gloriously sunny morning. The birds had been chirping happily in the trees, and the world suddenly felt like a better place.

Thranduil’s lips brushed her neck as they rode in through the gates. “Are you alright, my love?” he asked softly.

“Never better,” she smiled over her shoulder. She snuggled closer against him, the gentle movement of the horse making her sleepy.

The guards on duty silently stepped aside to let them pass through, the courtyard eerily silent. The horse came to a stop next to his stable, and Thranduil hopped down to the ground. He held his arms up, and she placed her hands on his shoulders as she slid into his embrace. They stood toe to toe, staring at one another for a few moments, and he softly brushed his mouth against hers.

“Welcome to your kingdom, my Queen,” he whispered with a smile.

“Thankyou, my King,” she whispered back, returning his smile.

He took her hand in his and twisted his fingers through hers as they walked over towards the palace, and an almighty eruption of cheering and applause burst out from everywhere.

Mirkwood had a new Queen.


	24. Chapter 24

** CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR **

****

Every ellon and elleth in the kingdom knew Thranduil had taken Katalia as his wife, and that their own private vows had been taken away from prying eyes. Some smiled and put on the pretence of being happy, while seething inside at the prospect of having missed a feast and drunken celebrations. Most of the elves however, were genuinely happy that their ruler had finally wed his true love, knowing in their hearts that he had finally found peace.

The ruling couple spent a few days away from the well-wishers, just wanting to be alone with each other without all the fuss and chaos that was bound to ensue.

Legolas was the first to offer his congratulations, embracing Katalia in a warm hug and thanking her for enlightening his father’s life after so many dark, desperate years. Thranduil had scoffed and snorted in a very un-royal manner, but he knew within himself that his son was correct.

Tauriel made a point of paying homage to her new Queen, and wished the pair all the love and blessings in the world. Lord Elrond sent a message with his congratulations, saying he would visit within the next few months; Imladris kept him busy for the time being.

Lady Galadriel had no need to communicate through any letters; she simply sent her love and best wishes in her own unique way, surprising Katalia as she heard her voice.

_Do not fear me, young Queen. I shall always be here if you need me. You have changed the future, and will continue to do so throughout your life together with Thranduil. Take my love and blessings, and take also the happiness which you both deserve._

She blinked, glancing at her husband, who smiled enigmatically. It seemed he too had heard the voice.

“It would seem that we will have to tear ourselves out of our self-imposed exile,” he commented lazily. “Unfortunately the outside world awaits our return, and there are many things I…and indeed we…have to deal with.”

“Yes, I know,” she replied with a slight nod. “These couple of days have been amazing though, have they not?”

He smirked, leaning down over her and tickling her bottom lip with his tongue. “Yes, my love, it has been a wonderful break away from everyday life. I could get used to this…maybe I shall enforce a rule allowing us to celebrate our marriage with a few days alone each week.” He leaned one elbow on the bed next to her, propping his chin on his hand.

She laughed, pushing his shoulder and he toppled. “You are being ridiculous,” she scoffed. “But I like your thinking.”

“Is that all you like?” he murmered, his eyes following her mouth. “Only my thinking? Nothing else?”

“You know that to be untrue,” she whispered as she ran the tip of her index finger down his straight nose. “I like everything about you. I love everything about you.”

Desire flickered in his ice blue eyes. “I think our marriage is in dire need of some re-consummating,” he said softly.

Her heart beat out of rhythm. “You know we have to return to our duties,” she said. “We can _re-consummate_ as you put it, later.”

He laughed, rolling onto his back. “Yes my love, I know.” He turned his head to look at her propped up next to him. “But I desire you so much…I want to spend all day and night buried deep inside you…never coming out.”

She leaned over and gave him a tender kiss. “Then you would not get many king-things accomplished,” she stated. “This realm needs you, and you have an obligation. As do I, these days.”

He smirked as he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “I assume you will still be working with that hard-headed horse of yours?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Of course,” she replied. “Does that irk you?”

Blue eyes met hers briefly. “Truthfully? I worry when you are with the damned beast, even though I know you have a trust with the hyperactive monstrosity and can usually control him. But he is your horse, your project, and I know how much he means to you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You did not answer my question,” she reminded him, folding her arms.

He gave her a wry look. “No. It does not irk me. I just fret.”

“You worry without cause or reason, _Melethron,_ ” she replied. “You forget that _monstrosity_ served me well when we fought the orc attack.”

One eyebrow twitched at the mention of the battle, but he didn’t follow up on it. “Yes, he did,” he said instead. “I suppose that counts in his favour.”

“I should hope so,” she said. “I never would have made it out alive if it was not for him.”

His eyes met hers and he stared at her for a few seconds, but again kept his silence.

She knew what he was thinking; she was never supposed to have gone out to fight in the first place. She grinned. “Come on then, my King,” she teased as she slid off the bed. “We have things to get through today, or else we will be talked and gossiped about even more than usual.”

He _pffft_ ’d. “And such harsh words would truly wound me,” he muttered, but took her hand and followed her from their chambers.

Their first point of call was a rather lengthy and boring meeting regarding the traders from Lake Town wishing to increase their monthly trading allowance.

Katalia found herself dragged into a seat next to her husband, where he kept one hand firmly in his beneath the table, resting his chin on his other hand, his elbow on the arm of his chair. Even he sounded bored after a short time had passed.

“I see no reason why the allowance cannot be increased,” he decided eventually, sitting slightly more upright. “But in return, I want our wine order raised. One good turn deserves another.”

The subject of debate drifted slightly, with one of the council members raising the issue of the kingdom now having a Queen.

“Will it not be the honourable thing to have a state wedding?” the man inquired. “The people expect it, my Lord.”

Thranduil lifted one eyebrow. “It is not their duty to expect anything,” he replied. “My Queen and I went ahead with our wedding the way we wanted; that is our right. Anyone with any objections can voice them to the designated Lords of their villages. I have neither the time, nor the inclination to listen to such pettiness regarding matters which do not concern others.” His thumb gently rubbed the back of her hand under the table as he spoke.

“Queen Katalia, my Lady,” the man sighed, turning his attention to her. “Do you not see the need to have a traditional royal wedding?”

“No,” she answered. “Like my King has just spoken; we wished to have our marriage ceremony private. That was our choice, and we did what we wanted. No one has the right to place expectations and demands on either of us.”

The disgruntled man glanced at Thranduil, before going back to her. “But does your Sindarin sense of duty not urge you otherwise?” he insisted. “You are surely aware of the rumours surrounding your union with the King – there are some who say that Thorin-“

“Enough!” Thranduil snarled, bringing his fist down onto the table with a solid thump.

Katalia narrowed her eyes, discreetly tightening her hold on his hand. “Let anyone who bears such accusations and assumptions have the nerve to face me and talk to me,” she said. “And I will personally convince them that their King is in no danger.”

The council member folded his arms, eyeing her with a sense of not believing her. “And how do you intend to do that, my Lady?”

She smirked. “I will go head to head in the training grounds with anyone who wishes to spread these malicious rumours,” she replied, and was met with startled gasps and murmers around the large table. “Let us see who is brave enough to take on that who is willing die to defend her husband, her King.”

Silence fell.

“Very good, my Lady,” he said finally. “I shall make it known.”

She stared at him until he flustered and re-seated himself, and she caught Legolas’s amused smile from the corner of her eye.

The discussion turned away from weddings to the suggestion of a feast in the forest. Thranduil’s thumb still traced little patterns on her hand, and she inhaled deeply as she felt and tried to ignore the sparks that were bursting to life in between her legs.

His deep velvet voice answered queries and questions beside her, but she wasn’t listening. Her breasts felt swollen, her nipples hard against the bodice of her dress. She shifted slightly in her chair, pursing her mouth and slapping on an interested expression.

Thranduil caught her eye in a sideways glance, the corner of his mouth turning up in a discreet smirk. She looked away, feeling his amusement through the strength of their bond. He thought her discomfort was funny!

His fingers tightened around hers as she attempted to pull her hand from his, preventing her from doing so. Her eyes drifted towards him, taking in his strong thighs as he sat with one knee over the other. She swallowed as she imagined her own legs wrapped around those thighs as he thrust into her. An image shot through her mind, of her naked, astride him, her hands on his chest, her hips rising and falling onto his. Glancing at him in surprise, she caught the slight flaring of his nostrils as he attempted to keep a straight face, and knew instantly that he had projected the image into her mind.

 _Two can play at this game,_ she thought to herself.

 _Then let us play,_ he silently replied, surprising her again.

She played a memory through her mind, one of him sitting on the edge of their bed, his legs spread as she kneeled on the floor before him, his erection deep in her mouth. His hands were braced behind him on the bed, his head thrown back and his eyes closed, gasping in pleasure.

He coughed discreetly beside her.

The next instant, she was shown herself lying on her back, his hands holding her thighs apart as he kissed and licked in between her legs. Her body writhed and twisted as she approached orgasm, and she tutted in disgust as the image disappeared.

Determinedly focusing on the discussion around her, she made a mental effort to douse the raging fire within her. The meeting finally drew to a close, and Thranduil placed a kiss on the back of her hand as he rose to his feet, telling her he would see her later.

She watched him leave with some of the council members, and shook her head in amusement. Gathering her wits together, she reminded those remaining that the children she had been tutoring were still expected to attend their daily classes with her. Being Queen wasn’t going to get in the way of the youngsters learning, and those with children in her care expressed their gratitude and thanks.

She was one of the last to leave the meeting room, and wandered along the hallways behind the others.

She almost screamed as someone grabbed her and dragged her forcibly into a side room, a hand being clamped hard over her mouth to prevent her making a sound.

“I have to meet with some of my advisers in but a few minutes,” Thranduil whispered, his mouth against her ear. “Therefore I have not the time to indulge your desires. However…as your husband, I have to ensure you are properly satisfied until we can be together.” He turned her in his arms to face him, his lips trailing down her neck and across her throat, and her hands fisted in the fabric of his tunic.

A loud gasp left her as his hands lifted to her breasts, kneading them through her dress. “I need you so much,” she whimpered, lust firing through her body with the force of a tornado.

“I could feel your arousal, my love,” he whispered huskily. “I could almost smell your desire… your need for me…your body crying out for completion…it would be unfair of me to leave you in such a condition…”

Her knees almost gave way as his hand slid under her skirts and in between her legs, and he groaned as he found her soaked. Two fingers slid inside her, his thumb caressing her clitoris, and his free arm supporting her.

“Place your foot on the chair beside you,” he commanded, his eyes staring into hers.

She complied, opening herself further to him. His fingers plunged hard and fast and his eyes blazed with his own lust. He watched her cheeks flush, her pupils dilate, and felt her body tremble in his hold.

Lowering his head, he rubbed his lips across hers, his tongue sliding along her bottom lip and pushing into her mouth. Her grip tightened on his clothing as she responded, her hips grinding against his hand as she soared towards release.

“Come for me, my darling,” he coaxed, his breathless whisper sending shivers down her back. She kissed him with bruising passion, gasping for breath as her body reacted in every way to his amazing torture.

Her head tipped back and she bit her lip to stop from groaning out loud, muttered curses flowing instead. He grinned against her neck as he dragged his tongue along her skin, chuckling to himself.

Her insides tightened and she burst through into sheer bliss, his mouth clamping down hard on hers to silence her cries as she flexed and convulsed around his fingers. A soft chuckle rumbled up through his chest as she collapsed against him, his strength holding her upright as her bones practically dissolved with the force of her release.

Waiting until her spasms ebbed away, he slowly withdrew his hand and broke their kiss, gazing down at her flushed face. “We will continue this later, my love,” he promised with a soft brush of his mouth over hers. “Hopefully that will keep you sated until then.”

She panted for breath, gently touching his cheek with one palm. “You are incorrigible,” she whispered.

He smiled. “You started sending images to me,” he pointed out with a raised eyebrow. “I must go. I love you.” His lips met hers in a final kiss, before he pulled away and trailed his hand down her arm to her hand, releasing her reluctantly as he left the room.

She leaned back against the wall, shaking her head in wonder.

*****

Several times throughout the day she caught fleeting glimpses of her husband, the mere sight of him sending the butterflies in her stomach into a wild frenzy. He stood at least a head above all others, his long blond hair sweeping down his back. Broad, strong shoulders demanded attention, and his confident, powerful strides set him apart from everyone around him.

She smiled to herself as she watched him from a distance, his commanding authority rolling from him in waves. He turned at one point and his ice blue eyes met hers, and he offered her a slight smile. She returned it, feeling the warmth of his love extending through their invisible connection. A slight nod as he turned away told her he would soon be done with his duties for the day and be with her.

“If I may say so, my Lady,” Tauriel said quietly, appearing at her side. “You and my Lord have a beautiful future ahead of you.” She smiled warmly.

Katalia smiled back. “I truly hope so,” she sighed. “We have been through too much already, in such a short time.”

“And you have emerged a stronger couple as a result,” her captain replied. “The strength between you both touches everyone; we can all feel it.”

Katalia glanced at her. “These rumours regarding Thorin trouble me,” she admitted. “They trouble me deeply.”

Tauriel patted her arm. “My Lady, please do not fret over such nonsense,” she said. “Those who are responsible for starting the rumours know better than to open their mouths now; Legolas has made it clear their dark thoughts and words will not be tolerated. And if my Lord Thranduil hears them for himself, I fear all hell will break loose. He is very protective of you.”

“And I of him,” she murmered, gazing off in the direction which he’d gone. “I meant what I said at the meeting – I am prepared to die for him.”

Tauriel’s beautiful eyes held hers. “As he was for you, my Lady, up on Hawk’s Head,” she said softly. “He knew you were too weak to be moved, and tried to send myself and Legolas away. He was intending on staying up there with you, and to die with you.”

Katalia’s heart thumped harder in her chest. “What about his kingdom?” she asked in a voice slightly more than a whisper. “His people need him; his son needs him.”

Tauriel smiled sadly. “Legolas would have taken on the crown that his father passed to him,” she said. “All my Lord wanted was to be with you. He refused to leave your side. I do not think I have ever bore witness to such devotion.”

She bowed her head and disappeared, leaving Katalia with her own thoughts.


	25. Chapter 25

** CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE **

****

The doors of the healing rooms closed with a soft click which sounded loud in the silence. Katalia stepped into the centre of the airy room, dismissing the two guards with a tilt of her head. They bowed respectfully and left to station themselves along at the far end of the corridor, where they could return immediately if needed.

She padded around the bed in her bare feet, her white dress flowing around her ankles as she moved, taking a seat in the comfortable chair a few yards away.

The figure lying in the bed slowly turned his head and opened his eyes.

“Katalia,” he whispered.

She didn’t answer, just watched him with a strong, steady gaze.

He coughed, struggling for air, and turned away from her again in a series of gasps and laboured breathing. The blankets covering his battered body couldn’t hide his pain from her, his physical agony. The battered being who struggled to breathe was indeed a fallen figure, a shadow of his former self.

“Why did you do it, Thorin?” she asked, her voice low.

He erupted into more violent coughs. “Do not ask questions you do not want to hear the answers to,” he rasped.

“I am asking, and I do want to hear,” she said.

He turned his head to her again. “You can never understand.”

“Try me,” she challenged, crossing one knee over the other.

“You turned against me,” he said. More coughing.

“Maybe,” she admitted. “But I did it for the right reasons.”

“You did it to get into Thranduil’s bed!” he hissed, and winced in pain. “You went against my family name, my family who took you in! All for sex with the cold-hearted elf King.”

She snorted. “The elf King who is so cold-hearted, he was ready to die with me up on that mountain,” she said, a trace of anger in her tone. “The elf King who is so cold-hearted he has made me his wife, and loves me beyond my comprehension.”

Thorin scoffed. “He is merely protecting the gems, lest you turn on him also.”

She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “I turned on you to save your people,” she hissed. “And those gems rightfully belong within the house of the King. Maybe one day you will see through your greed and selfishness enough to understand that. Life is _not_ cheap, as you once told me. Life is sacred, and once it has gone, it cannot return. Maybe as you face your own death you will understand.”

He grunted. “You are a traitor. You committed treason.”

“I did no such thing,” she retorted. “Treason is an act of treachery against one’s own King or Queen. You are not my King, and you never were. And for what it is worth, your family did not _take me in;_ I was employed by your father to do a job.” She stopped as he started to cough and retch.

“It matters not who is right and who is wrong,” he gasped after he had settled a little. “My fate is sealed. Your _husband_ intends to kill me.”

Her eyes narrowed at the way he said it, implying Thranduil’s title as her mate was low and dirty.

“Did he tell you that?” Thorin jeered, noticing the subtle change in her eyes. “Did he tell you he is going to slaughter the child you invested so many years in?”

“You have sealed your own fate,” she replied. “And yes – I knew. He is not going to slaughter a child, but an evil adult who has long left the innocence of childhood behind in his quest and lust for materialistic value.”

“He has no room to speak of lust for materialistic things,” he ground out, his fists clutching the sheet he lay on. “He is known throughout Middle Earth for his greed, his desire to possess anything of value. I just cannot fathom out what he deems to be so valuable about you. I can only assume he is bewitched by what is in between your legs.”

The doors to the healing rooms crashed open before she could respond, revealing Thranduil, who absolutely bristled with fury. He marched over to the bed, his body practically shaking with anger.

“You do not speak to my wife in such a manner!” he growled, his hand tight around Thorin’s throat. “You do not speak to her at all, lest I rip your tongue out and you shall speak no more!”

Furious blue eyes collided with Katalia’s, his face set in a hard mask of anger.

“Come with me. Now,” he commanded.

Thorin coughed and wheezed as Thranduil released his grip. “Go with your selfish, greedy mate,” he choked out. “Two dirty rats who are suited to each other.”

Katalia sighed softly as she paused at the foot of the bed. “You are not helping yourself,” she said sadly.

Thranduil gripped her wrist and hauled her from the room, shoving her through the door in front of him. Slamming it closed with a bang that would rival thunder, he turned on her.

“What were you doing?” he demanded angrily.

She softly held a fingertip against his mouth, but he wrenched her hand away in temper.

“Do not give him the pleasure of hearing us fight,” she said quietly.

His nostrils flared as he glared down at her, and he knew she was right. He clenched his teeth in an effort to gain some self-control and grabbed her wrist again, forcing her to follow him further along the corridor away from the healing rooms.

“I want an explanation!” he roared, once they were in the confines of the closest available room, which happened to be the library.

She held his furious gaze. “I wanted to see how he fared,” she replied. “Do not forget I dedicated decades of my life to his. That is all.”

His eyes hardened further. “He is of no concern to you now!” he shouted. “He tried to kill you, more than once! Yet you still make time to seek how he is? What is wrong with you?!”

She inhaled through her nose. “I am a woman, and I remember the child who once was,” she replied. “I wanted to know if that child still lives within him.”

“ _Nothing_ will live within him once he is well enough to take punishment!” he spat. “He will suffer for what he has done! You now fuel the rumours that seep through this kingdom by going to see him!”

“No I do not,” she said. “If I felt his life could be saved, I would have approached you with the request that you listen if I felt it necessary to bargain for his life.”

“And I would have refused to listen,” he hissed. “The despicable runt is at the end of his life, and he will scream for death by the time I am through with him! I am disgusted that you would even grace him with your presence!”

She lowered her eyes, aware that he bristled only inches in front of her. He turned away, his chest heaving as he fought for control.

“Taking his life does not make you the stronger man,” she said quietly.

He whirled back to face her, his temper blazing in the depths of his eyes. “And what would you have me do?” he demanded. “Pardon him?”

She ignored his sarcasm. “Punish him as you see fit,” she replied. “But not to lower yourself to taking a life that did not threaten your own.”

He shook his head slowly, his gaze never leaving hers. Turning from her again, he walked away from her, coming to a halt beside one of the bookcases that rested against the wall. It stood taller than he, and was crammed with books.

She gasped in fright as he grabbed it and wrenched it from the wall, exploding in temper. Books flew to the floor and scattered in all directions, the wooden structure crashing on top of them with a loud bang.

“Maybe you _do_ feel something for the filthy pig!” he shouted.

Pain stabbed through her heart with the force of a sword at his words, and her eyes filled with tears. “Yes, I do,” she whispered. “I feel an attachment to the child I raised, the innocent being who once resided in that body, but who has long gone. I feel grief and I mourn for the person he once was. And now I feel that you could not have hurt me more had you driven your own sword through my heart.”

She swallowed her tears and turned, leaving him alone.

But not before he saw the tell-tale glistening in her eyes, and his heart ached for the pain he had just caused her.

*****

Thranduil pinched the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to ease the pounding headache which had pained him since he had argued with Katalia. She had disappeared, and he hadn’t seen her since. Grief weighed heavily on his heart. He knew he shouldn’t have said what he had, but she didn’t understand how concerned he was when he heard she had gone to see the dwarf.

Unable to fathom out why she should care, he had allowed his temper to rule his actions, and now he regretted it.

Lifting his head, he summoned one of the guards. “Find my wife and tell her I request her presence,” he ordered.

The guard bowed and disappeared, leaving him to his thoughts once more.

He cast his mind over the servant who had stayed at his son’s side throughout his childhood years, doing the same task that Katalia had been assigned with. She too had been one hundred percent devoted to Legolas, and committed to his every wish, need, and want. Even as he grew into an adult, she never strayed far and was always around if he wished to talk. In truth, he still visited her regularly, and Thranduil knew the pair shared an unbreakable friendship that would withstand the strains of war and time.

Unlike Katalia, the servant had not turned her back on a previous life to take on the responsibility of her charge.

Katalia had. Her devotion and loyalty to the youngster had resulted in her leaving her position at the head of Elrond’s armies, leaving everything she knew and had trained for. Her entire existence had turned upside down as she fulfilled the request that a child have a stable presence in his life.

His headache continued to pound viciously in his skull.

“My Lord, I have passed your command on to Lady Katalia,” the guard said as he re-entered the study.

Thranduil lifted his head and looked at him. “Well? Where is she?” he asked.

The guard looked terrified. “She sends word that she is busy.”

The King closed his eyes, waving the guard away with an impatient flip of his hand. She was going to make him crawl and beg for her forgiveness, and he knew within himself that was exactly what he should be doing, instead of sending for her.

Rising from his chair with a heartfelt sigh, he left the study and went in search of her, already instinctively knowing where she would be.

“Perhaps if I was a horse, I would not hurt you so much,” he said softly, having been correct in his assumptions and finding her in the stables with Talagor. “Perhaps I would treat you with the respect you deserve.”

Her hand stilled in her task of brushing his tail, but she didn’t turn around, or answer him.

“I am sorry for what I said, how I acted,” he said, his tone quiet, his words filled with anguish. “Sometimes I forget you were like a mother to him, and that you will be hurting because of what he has become. I just look to protect you, and he has caused you nothing but grief, sorrow, and harm. I should not have taken my temper out on you, my love, and I should not have spoken to you the way I did. I am sorry.”

Her shoulders sagged, the weight of their argument too heavy for her to carry. She slowly turned to him, and was shocked to see the genuine heartbreak in his eyes.

He hesitantly held his hands out, silently begging her to go to him, equally fearing that she wouldn’t.

She dropped the brush and stepped into his arms which closed instantly around her, crushing her against him. She wrapped her arms around his torso, feeling the tremble that rippled through his body. Turning her head, she touched her mouth to his neck in a soft kiss.

“I hate it when we fight,” she whispered.

“We should not be fighting,” he whispered back. “We will _not_ fight. I will not speak to you in such a manner again.” He pulled back a little, framing her face with his hands and gazing deep into her eyes. “I am _so_ sorry…I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she said. “It breaks my heart when we disagree like that.”

He shook his head, blinking hard to dispel the tears that threatened to make their presence known. “We shall not be disagreeing. I will not allow myself to be in such a foul temper around you,” he vowed. “You are too precious to me. I cannot lose you because of my anger, my lack of control.”

“You will not lose me,” she said softly, leaning her head against his shoulder. “You hurt me; I needed some time away from you to try and fix myself.”

“I am terrified Oakenshield will harm you again,” he said, his voice muffled as he buried his face against her neck. “Maybe I should kill him right away and be done with everything.”

“No,” she said.

“I fear you will never be safe while he still draws breath,” he whispered. “He has made it his mission in life to end yours, and I cannot and will not stand by and do nothing. Please understand the situation I am in, my love.”

She took a deep breath. “I do understand, and it breaks my heart because I cannot reach into him and pull out the child who once lived within him,” she said. “I too feel that he will not rest until I am dead, even though I am hoping for miracles.”

“I never believed in miracles until the night you came to my tent,” he said softly. “Now I question everything I believe in.”

“I gave up questioning my ethics a long time ago,” she admitted. “Everything I had instilled in myself seemed false and untrue, particularly where the innocence of a child was concerned.”

“I am so sorry I said what I did,” he whispered, his arms tightening. “I did not mean it, and I should never have said it. Please forgive me.”

She pulled back enough to gaze up at him. “Do you remember what I said about how I shall always forgive you?” she reminded him gently.

He nodded. “I should not have acted in such a way that I am now asking for your forgiveness,” he replied. “Yet I find myself in that situation again. I am allowing my emotions to control me, and this is something entirely new for me.”

She drew her hand down his cheek in a comforting gesture. “Maybe being ruled by your emotions is better than having no emotions at all,” she said gently. “I remember the talk of you before I came to know you. People regarded you as cold, ruthless, uncaring, and hard-hearted. That is not the Thranduil I know. The Thranduil I know and fell in love with is a warm, loving, caring ruler with a deeply intense passionate side to him. He is sensual, devoted, and trustworthy. I know which I prefer.”

Blue eyes held hers as he contemplated her words. “I closed off my feelings and what was in my heart for centuries,” he admitted. “But when you came into my life, you changed everything. I found I could no longer hide these things away, not even from myself. That scares me.”

She smiled. “There is nothing to fear,” she told him. “No woman wants a husband or a mate who cannot show his feelings.”

“I have no problems showing my feelings around you,” he said. “If anything, I have problems controlling them.” He inhaled deeply. “Will you do me the honour of having supper with this emotional, mentally strung-out husband of yours?”

“Yes, I rather think I shall,” she quipped, and stood on her toes to kiss his delectable mouth. “And I know what I would like for afters…”


	26. Chapter 26

** CHAPTER TWENTY SIX **

****

Sweat rolled down Katalia’s back as she dived and pounced, her swords a blur around her as she moved swiftly. The screech of steel against steel was loud enough to wake the dead, but she didn’t falter in a single swipe of her weapons. Haldron, having been reinstated as head of the training grounds after his punishment for his unfair attack on her months back, was matching her step for step as she battled out her aggression.

Thranduil watched silently from the cover of the trees, mentally assessing his lover’s frame of mind. Her moves were accurate and deadly, driven by an unseen force of inner turmoil and torment.

He knew the reason why she was in such a mind-set.

The previous night after they had eaten supper together, he had taken her for a walk through the gardens, knowing how much she enjoyed being outside at night in the darkness. Afterwards, they had retired to their chambers where he had taken his time and worshipped every inch of her body, drawing out her pleasure and taking her desire to unexplored levels.

They had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, utterly exhausted, but happy.

During the night, Katalia’s sleep had turned restless, plagued with nightmares of Thorin’s abduction of her. Thranduil had looked into her dreams as he’d comforted her, shocked at the despair she had felt, the abandonment as the nights had drifted by, and the physical pain she still felt in her dreams. Her mind had turned to the prisoner in the healing rooms, and his heart had broken a little as he felt her anguish at what he had become. Finally, she had dreamt of the evening they had just spent together, naked and making love with each other, and the emotion he felt from her memories burned into his soul.

The morning had arrived however, finding her quiet and withdrawn. Thorin was obviously taking precedence in her mind, and she was at this point battling with herself over a choice which she did not have any control over, and the probable outcome.

Her stance on the training field had altered; she was fighting through pure anger, and the change in her tactics was clear.

Thranduil stepped out of the trees, knowing he had to stop the sparring or she would severely injure his captain.

“Katalia,” he called over the sound of the swords clashing in their frenzied fight.

Both warriors lowered their weapons, Haldron bowing in respect instantly.

“I have a meeting and require your presence,” Thranduil said, addressing his wife. “Will you accompany me?”

“Of course,” she replied, turning to her opponent and bowing to him. The captain took her weapons to return them, and she thanked him as she walked towards her husband.

He stood tall and proud, every inch of him radiating the majestic ruler he was. Her stomach rolled a little as she neared him, and she wondered silently if he knew the effect he had on her.

“Stomach problems, _Melleth nin?”_ he asked with a smirk as he held his hand out to her. “Perhaps you should seek the advice of a healer.”

She scowled at him. “I assume you feel everything I feel?”

He laughed heartily. “I only felt that because you had not blocked me,” he replied. He tugged her closer to him, cradling her cheek with his free hand. “Do I do that to you?” he asked in a husky voice.

“Yes,” she whispered, lost in his eyes. “Every time I see or hear you. I cannot control it.”

His nostrils flared as he felt the sharp pang of desire shoot through his body, and he lowered his mouth to hers in a soft, sensual touch. Her body melded to his as the kiss deepened, his tongue slowly taking possession of her mouth and claiming her as his and only his.

Pulling back with a tender smile, he tucked her hair behind her ear. “You do likewise to me,” he whispered. “Every time I even think of you.”

She smiled, her cheeks turning pink. “What is this meeting you require me for?” she asked as they turned and began to walk back towards the palace.

“Oakenshield,” he replied. His voice had taken on a slightly harder tone. “He has been deemed as fit to stand before me. However, if you do not wish to be present, I understand and will accept that.”

She was silent for a few moments. “I do not fear him, if that is what you mean,” she replied.

“You have no reason to fear him,” he said. “I would die to protect you. He will not lay a finger on you. However, I cannot control what poison comes out of his rabid mouth.”

“I would not worry about what he says,” she remarked. “Although I feel myself becoming angry when he speaks ill of you.”

“And I feel myself having the overriding desire to cut his throat when he speaks ill of you,” he grinned. “Perhaps we should both promise each other not to let our emotions get the better of us.”

“I think I can do that,” she agreed, tightening her hold on his warm hand. “I think I should freshen up and change out of my battle gear before I attend…do I have time?”

“Of course,” he replied. “Do you wish to bathe?”

“No, just a quick freshen up will suffice for now,” she said. “I was hoping we might bathe later…together.”

Ice blue eyes met hers as he glanced down, his arousal blazing in the depths. “I shall ensure I free up some time after dinner,” he promised.

Giving her a kiss as they parted ways outside their chambers, he headed off to his throne room while she went inside to wash and change.

“Father, I need to speak with you,” Legolas called, and he turned to see his son approaching him. “Something urgent.”

“Is something wrong?” he asked, frowning in concern.

“No,” he replied. “But there is something weighing heavily on my mind, and I feel I should discuss it with you.”

Thranduil nodded. “Walk with me,” he said, and father and son continued along the hallway, side by side.

*****

Thranduil’s head was lowered as Katalia meandered along the walkway, his attention lost. She frowned as she went closer, sensing melancholy through their connection. She also felt a strong pull of love, along with an intolerable hatred. Knowing the love was for her and the hatred was more than likely aimed at Thorin, she didn’t concern herself.

Her bare feet made no noise as she padded up to the bottom step, where she stopped and gazed up at him.

His face changed as his eyes shifted and he became aware of her presence. She stood below him in a soft, sleeveless dress in shades of pink. The pink became gradually darker as it reached her feet, where he could see her toes peeping out. Her hair cascaded down her back in a river of poker-straight jet black, her deep blue eyes mentally assessing him.

He smiled. “Come up here, my precious wife,” he said softly, extending one hand.

She climbed the steps and took the hand he offered, which he held tightly.

His free hand lifted to her face, caressing her cheek with a whisper-soft touch. “My beautiful, adorable, desirable wife,” he whispered. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she replied softly. “Are you alright?”

He pursed his mouth as he nodded. “Yes.”

Unconvinced, she watched him.

He smiled at her, pulling her closer and rising to his feet. Holding her cheek in one hand and her hand in his other, he pressed against her as he tenderly kissed her. Ice blue eyes stared into her soul as she slowly pulled back.

“You know your crown makes you look impossibly taller,” she commented with a smile.

He grinned. The crown he had chosen was the spiked one, which did indeed add a fair bit to his already towering height. “Never too tall to appreciate the beauty of the Queen who stands before me,” he replied. His eyes shifted, and he sighed quietly. “Oakenshield is here.”

She turned to go back down the steps, but he refused to release her.

“Your place is up here at my side,” he explained at her look of confusion. “Not down there with the guards and the prisoner.” He turned and sat back down on his throne, pulling her and making her sit on the arm beside him. His hand still held hers, and tightened around it.

“Are you sure you are alright?” she asked in concern.

He smiled at her. “Never better, _Melleth nin._ ”

The guards approached along the walkway, and gave Thorin a push so he stopped just before the foot of the steps. With an angry glare upwards, he clenched his teeth and stayed quiet.

Thranduil lifted his head up so he could look down his nose even more at his prisoner. “Do you have anything you wish to tell me?” he questioned.

Thorin’s eyes blazed in anger. “You call yourself a great King,” he replied. “Yet you heal your prisoners only so you can torture and kill them. That is hardly what I would call being a great King.”

“A great King who wishes to exact revenge for the atrocity you forced upon his wife,” he replied calmly. “A great King who intends on retribution for leaving his wife to die. Tell me, _dwarf…_ would you not seek justice for one who intended for your wife to perish?” He had leaned forwards as he spoke.

“I have been through this time and time again!” Thorin shouted. “She turned against me! What she did was unspeakable! I knew you would come for her, damn you. She has you twisted around her little finger.”

“And what a place to be twisted around,” Thranduil smirked as he sat back again. “I think you are jealous. I do not think that what concerns you anymore is her _betrayal,_ as you put it – I think you are jealous.”

The dwarf snorted. “Not in a lifetime.”

Thranduil lifted one eyebrow. “Really? I think otherwise.”

“What you think does not matter,” Thorin spat. “You have been deceived. You are not thinking with a rational mind, you are thinking through lust! She has twisted your mind even further than it already was.”

“As this is _my_ kingdom, _my_ realm, what I think _does_ matter,” he informed the irate prisoner. “I think it is more likely that what _you_ think does not matter.”

“My kin will avenge my death,” Thorin hissed.

Thranduil laughed. “I fear I shall never sleep again, lest I be assaulted by an army of miniature warriors.”

“Mock all you wish,” Thorin snapped. “At least we do not turn on those around us for the sake of greed!”

Thranduil rose swiftly, his hand still holding Katalia’s. “Do _not_ compare my race with your hideous one,” he snarled. “You accused your own kin of keeping the Arkenstone from you! You turned on Katalia before she even considered removing those gems! And you put an arrow in her back to retaliate when she did!” He released her hand, slowly descending the steps. “I saw the bruises you inflicted on her, bruises you marked her with solely for questioning your decision,” he hissed. “Yes,” he added, circling his ashamed-looking prisoner. “I counted those bruises. I worried over them. I healed them. And I made her a promise she would _never_ suffer like that again. But you? You made me break my promise when you abducted her and beat her more, when I was not in a position to defend her. You took that from me, you deprived me of my right as her husband and her King to protect her.”

Thorin swallowed, lost for a reply.

Thranduil continued to circle him, his hands behind his back. “And you question my desire for revenge,” he said softly in his ear as he passed. “Tell me, _dwarf…_ what would you have me do?”

He stopped behind him, glaring down at the back of his head. His ice blue eyes lifted to Katalia’s, and he held her gaze for a few moments.

Reaching her through their bond, he wasn’t surprised to find she had blocked him, making it impossible for him to read her feelings or emotions. He smiled at her, understanding the fact that she didn’t want what she felt to cloud or influence his judgement.

She smiled back, her thoughts firmly locked away from him. She could feel him reaching out to her, but chose not to reciprocate the gesture, knowing he already understood why.

“Think of how you would react if you were fortunate enough to have a wife with beauty such as mine,” he said, turning his attention back to Thorin. “Someone out there is driven by the need to maim her and take her life, making her suffer in the worst way possible. Injuring her. Frightening her. Taking her from your protection. Abandoning her in a place where death is almost guaranteed to come for her. What would you do?”

Several long seconds passed.

“I would not have had anything to do with the blasted gems in the first place,” Thorin finally ground out.

Thranduil slowly circled back round him again, his icy stare being enough to hold the dwarf still. “Yes…it would seem they were the root of everything that has gone wrong,” he murmered slowly. He stood to his full height, staring down his nose. “Which is why the gems will be returned to you.”

Katalia gasped audibly.

Thorin turned white.

Silence.

“You will be taken to the borders of my kingdom,” Thranduil continued. “Your kin shall meet with you, and you will continue to Erebor. Every guard, patrol, and watch alert will be given orders – if you are seen anywhere near this realm, you will be killed _immediately,_ without question or hesitation. You are now forbidden to set food on my lands for the rest of your unfortunate existence, and you shall not be sending packages or letters of any description.” He stopped, lowering his face right down so he was almost nose to nose with Thorin. “Do I make myself clear?”

The dwarf swallowed, stunned at the turn in events. “Yes,” he whispered.

“Good.” Thranduil straightened back up. “My guards will escort you shortly. Your kin have already been informed and will be waiting for you.” He glanced over his shoulder as he made his way back towards his throne. “Do _not_ give me reason to end your life,” he warned. “I will not be so forgiving should there be a next time.”

Thorin’s mouth was still gaping in shock. “Why?” he stuttered as he fought to gain control over his thoughts and his voice. “Why return the jewels? You were prepared to go to war for them.”

Thranduil gazed up at his wife, who watched him with a look of confusion. “Because having them in my possession has taught me that there are more precious things than jewels,” he said softly. “Without them, this incredible woman would not be at my side day and night. Yet owning them has brought her safety into question too many times. I have seen her blood spilled too many times over the accursed things. No more.”

Thorin’s eyes lowered as shame flooded through him.

“True love and an everlasting, unbreakable bond between two souls are far more valuable,” Thranduil said, looking back at him. “That is the power of the white gems. I have learned that. You have not.”

He turned his back and walked up the steps, taking Katalia’s hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“Come, my love,” he whispered, tugging her gently from where she sat on the arm of the throne and leading her back down the steps. They walked past Thorin, shoulder to shoulder, holding hands, and disappeared into the depths of the palace.


	27. Chapter 27

** CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN **

****

Katalia stopped as soon as they were out of sight, tugging on Thranduil’s hand to halt him. “What have you done?” she asked, her shock still evident as she spoke.

He shrugged. “I have given him what he desires so much,” he replied.

“But…those gems were for your wife,” she said. “They now belong to Legolas. You were ready to kill and to die yourself to retrieve them! What has changed? Why are you giving him what he wants, when you fought so hard to have what rightfully belongs to you?”

He stared at her for a moment. “Having the gems did not bring me true happiness,” he told her. “You did. You changed everything around me, _Melleth nin._ The gems were suddenly no longer important. I have been considering this for a long time, and I know I have made the right decision.”

“But…” she trailed off, shaking her head as she looked around, desperately trying to find words to voice her confusion. “I almost died ensuring they were returned to you. We would not have found each other if I had not brought them to you. We would not have the relationship we have, or the eternal bond that we have. Your son would not have his mother’s legacy.”

Thranduil smiled slightly. “He does not need them to remember his mother,” he said softly. “Perhaps what you say is correct; perhaps we would not have found each other. But we did. The pull between us had already started to weave its own magic. The gems were no longer needed. I do not need them; I let my son’s mother go centuries ago. He does not need them. He has already discussed this with me.”

She blinked.

He gave a soft sigh. “Legolas came to me not an hour before the dwarf was brought before us,” he explained. “He voiced his concerns over your safety and the fact that the gems being here would bring no good, and there would always be a threat. He does not want either of us to be unhappy, and he is aware that to be happy, we need each other. The jewels are irrelevant. By returning them to the dwarf, he will have what he wants and he will disappear.”

She continued to stare at him, shocked beyond words at what he had just done.

For her.

For the love between them.

“The despicable rat had already tried to bargain with me, before he took you away from me,” he said, turning and continuing to walk with her. “He wanted the gems in return for leaving you alone. I refused. That is something I shall always regret, and something I have to live with.”

“That was what you were arguing about that day you were down in the dungeons,” she murmered, her mind going back to when she had gone looking for him and found him down there. She frowned. “Why do you have regrets? You should not have; he was not in a position to bargain with anyone.”

His hand tightened around hers as they walked. “If I had given in to his demands, you would never have been taken from me,” he said quietly. “You would never have suffered the way you did.” He glanced down at her, anguish clear in the depths of his eyes. “I have paid the price for that, and I will continue to do so for as long as I breathe.”

She stood in front of him, stopping him and preventing him from moving. Her free hand rested on his chest. “You do not pay the price for anything,” she told him. “He is fuelled by greed; that is not your concern. I suspect he might still have sought revenge, whether he had the gems or not. There is no telling how dark his mind is, how much evil has festered through his bloodstream. But I will not stand back and watch you bury yourself in guilt – it is not yours.”

He blinked slowly as he listened to her. Taking a deep breath, he tilted his head to one side as he regarded her. “You will be an asset in council meetings,” he murmered.

“Stop changing the subject,” she said. “Listen to me. Do not let go of something which has driven you for so long.”

“And it has been the wrong thing which has driven me,” he said. “Or maybe it was simply a guide to find what would really drive me. You.”

She glanced down for a few moments. “I want you to be certain within your heart and your mind that this is what you want,” she said, finally lifting her eyes back to his.

He cradled her cheek in his warm hand, a tender smile on his face. “You are what I want,” he whispered. “You, and only you. Nothing else. You are everything to me, and always will be. I want to spend each and every day with you. I want to sleep every night curled up in your arms, having made love to you and shown you how much I adore and worship you. I want to go horse-riding with you, bathe with you, spar with you. I want to climb trees with you, I want to carry you around on my back when you insist on not wearing anything on your feet. I want to comb your hair, I want you to challenge me and shout at me when you disagree with me. I can only do these things with you, Katalia. Nobody else. You are my wife, you are the very heart of me. Nothing else in this world could ever compare to you. And nothing ever will.”

Tears had formed in her eyes as she listened, and she blinked hard to get rid of them.

“Please do not cry, my love,” he whispered, gently wiping a tear away as it escaped. “I only ever want for you to be safe and happy. And I will move mountains, fight orcs, and slay dragons to make sure that you are. I love you.”

She stepped closer, lifting her arms and winding them around his broad shoulders, burying her face against the warm, smooth flesh of his neck. “I love you so much, I cannot begin to tell you,” she gasped, holding him as tightly as she could.

His arms tightened like steel around her back as he closed his eyes and breathed in her scent. “We have forever to invent new ways to tell each other,” he whispered.

*****

Thranduil took a deep breath of contentment as he walked along the hallway towards the royal chambers. Katalia was getting herself ready, with the unwanted help from two servants, amidst much complaining and tutting. He smiled to himself, knowing she would be giving the servants a hard time and griping as she took each breath.

She _hated_ having servants fiddle around helping her to dress, do her hair, apply her makeup. She was highly independent and liked doing things herself, her way.

His smile increased as he neared their chambers. No doubt the servants he had ordered to fuss over her would be relieved at the opportunity to get out of the room. Pushing open the door, he allowed a mask of cool indifference to slide over his features, as his wife whipped around and threw him a glare that would have halted a charging pack of rabid, starving wargs.

He pursed his mouth as he read the irritation in her blue eyes. Eyes that were lined with dark grey, with a softer grey smudged over her eyelids. Eyes that softened even as she held his gaze. Eyes that he would quite happily drown in.

“Is everything satisfactory, my Queen?” he asked, with only a slight hint of merriment in his voice.

“Perfectly so, my King,” she replied, her eyes narrowing just fractionally. A wave of her hand dismissed the servants, and she heaved a sigh of relief as soon as they had left. “Thank goodness for that…Thranduil, they drove me _crazy!_ ” Her voice had risen to almost a whine.

He chuckled. “But you look positively radiant,” he assured her. “Shall we proceed?”

She slowly prowled towards him, her hips swaying seductively, and took the arm that he offered. He smiled down at her, lowering his head to capture her mouth in a tender kiss.

Allowing him to lead her from their rooms, she walked beside him through the palace and outside. The sun was setting for the night, and the sky was splashed with shades of red and deep orange. Thranduil slid his arm from hers as they entered the forest and allowed his hand to wrap around hers, his fingers intertwining through hers in a safe, strong grip.

The trees opened out before them into a clearing, where hundreds of elves were congregated, already partying. Countless flickering lanterns hung from branches, along with decorations artfully crafted from coloured paper twisted into creative shapes and designs. A massive array of food had been laid out, and elves were tucking in like they had never seen food before. Wine flowed like it was going out of fashion, and music drifted over the crowds.

“This is beautiful,” she said in amazement. “It must have taken hours and hours to arrange all this.”

“The servants have been preparing since dawn this morning,” he told her as they walked through the crowds, people stopping and bowing to them as they passed through. “Every aspect has been planned out and arranged down to the finest detail.”

“Everything is spectacular,” she said.

“For you? Of course – I would have nothing less,” he replied with a smile. He swiftly sidestepped a group of elves who were halfway to being intoxicated, dancing like it was their last chance to unwind and relax. “This is a celebration of you finally becoming my Queen, the Queen of those we rule over.”

“I still do not feel like one,” she admitted. “I am happy just to be your wife.”

He smiled at her again. “And I am more than happy to be your husband,” he replied. “Although sometimes I think maybe you should have had a proper royal wedding ceremony.”

She _pffft_ ’d at his side. “The formalities do not interest me. The act of being one with you is far more important to me,” she said. “That created a strengthening of our bond that will stand the test of time.”

“Yes, it will,” he said, stopping and turning to look at her. “Nothing will break that bond. Not war, not darkness and distance, and not death. What we have will be forever.”

She gazed up into his ice blue eyes, seeing honest, love, and devotion there, and smiled as she touched his cheek gently.

The tender moment was broken as a drunken Legolas staggered over, supported unsteadily by a weary looking Tauriel.

“The married couple!” he slurred, a huge grin on his face as he held a bottle of wine aloft. “May the Valar blesh you both with happinesh, lotsh of cherished memoriesh, and perhapsh shome more babiesh…if that ish what you both want…what day ish thish?” He turned to Tauriel, who shook her head resolutely.

“It is the planned day of the Feast,” she replied. “Come, my Prince; you should rest somewhere.”

“Aarghh,” he muttered, trying in vain to shrug her off. “The night ish yet young…dansh with me, Captain!”

Katalia struggled to hide her laughter as he dragged his companion back into the crowd, attempting to spin her around in circles along with the others who were dancing. Thranduil sighed softly, shaking his head in amusement.

“My offspring,” he muttered, watching him stagger and almost fall.

“They are entitled to relax and enjoy themselves,” she replied, and turned to lift a glass of wine from a servant passing with a large silver tray loaded with wine.

Thranduil swiftly took the glass from her, returning it to the tray before the servant vanished into the crowds. “Not for you, my love,” he said.

“Why not?” she demanded. “I wanted that.”

He stared down at her, at the indignation radiating from her blue eyes. “I know you did,” he told her. “But our unborn child does not.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “Our what..?” she gasped. “I am not…no…am I?!”

He grinned, taking her hand and placing it on her abdomen, his large hand holding it in place. “Close your eyes, _Melleth nin,_ ” he whispered. “Breathe slowly. Feel our bond. Feel what I feel.”

She complied, feeling him through their unseen connection. Gradually another presence made itself known; a very slight, very faint glimmer.

Her eyes flew open and her jaw dropped.

He continued to grin. “I felt our little one last night while you were asleep,” he said softly, oblivious to the mild uproar going on around them as the elves partied away. “I had my arm around you, and my hand lay on your stomach. That was when I felt the presence of a little one.”

She blinked, lost for what to say.

He tipped her chin up with one finger. “Are you happy?” he asked in concern.

She started to laugh, an excited, joyous laugh. “Yes!” she almost shouted, throwing her arms up around his neck. “Yes, yes, yes! Of course I am happy…are _you_ happy?”

“That goes without saying, my love,” he whispered. “Nothing could make me happier, than being here, with you, like this. I could ask for nothing more.”

Her arms tightened around him as she buried her face against his neck, his long hair kissing her softly as it flowed over his shoulders. “I love you so much,” she whispered.

“As I love you, my darling,” he replied. His hands gently caressed her back as he held her close. “And I always will. I never would have guessed in a thousand lifetimes that the white gems would have led you to me, or to this life we have together. I spent so long desiring something which in reality holds no value. What lay behind it has the true value. The value of my heart.”

She pulled back from him slightly, maintaining her hold on him, and gazed into the ice blue eyes that held hers. Smiling softly, she tugged him towards her, closing her eyes as his warm mouth met hers.

As he gently kissed her, his words echoed round in her mind.

The gems truly did hold no value.

Her husband and King was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end for Thranduil and Katalia. From a rocky beginning where they despised each other and made the wrong assumptions about each other, they discovered their true feelings and defied the odds to be together, despite Thorin's attempts at separating them. And Thranduil learned that there are indeed some things which hold more value than the white gems...namely his wife.
> 
> Thankyou to all who have followed, kudo'd and commented. As usual, I've loved working on this, and I enjoy replying to comments as they come through.
> 
> On a side note, my new story, Kiss Of An Angel, will be starting soon. But as I have been posting updates every day for months, I'm taking a short hiatus in writing and posting, just a little breathing space. I will be back before the end of May, probably WAY before, but the end of the month at the very latest. I hope those of you who have followed and enjoyed my work will join me on another hot Thranduil tale x


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